Fireproof
by Hymn Daisy
Summary: The world just wasn't made for him, but that didn't mean he wasn't willing to try to make it work. A relatively head canon-laden life of Deidara. Warning: Here be the gay.
1. Morning Dew

_Sometimes, Deidara wished he had just passed away two years ago._

 _Maybe things would have been different, had his family survived whatever atrocity had ultimately killed each one of them. Different and easier for Deidara, the good pupil who need just exist. Well, quite so these days. There wasn't much more he was expected to do - whether he liked it or not._

 _The world just wasn't made for him._

From an outsider's perspective, Deidara touted an enviable position in a caste system such as the one the Stone Village operated under so dutifully. He could cast his problems out to the world for whichever hapless bastard reached for them first, but after a gleeful cheer accompanying a mocking gesture they would surely find themselves in a similarly ornate cage. Beautifully crafted, luxurious, and even occasionally fun, a gilded cage would still be little more than a cage in the end.

Even the silken drapes that lined the windows overlooking the city below were a cruel tease. The sun would playfully trickle through the draperies in the early mornings and afternoons; only once pulled back would they confirm indefinitely that the most Deidara could do was gaze upon it. The simple act of basking in sunlight was just too much to ask for.

Admittedly, Deidara knew very little about the reasons for him being permitted to "stay" in the manor of the revered Tsuchikage. Maybe his senility was showing, though it could have been an act of sympathy. He assumed those phrases like " _I_ _want what's best for him_ " and " _He will be thankful for this later_ " were casually tossed around when the notion of this glorified kidnapping came up.

The road to hell was paved with excuses akin to those.

It was just another morning for Deidara, here in this palace. Well, palace would be fair when compared to the pitiful slums that made up the majority of the Stone Village. If placed against any other Kage's manor, however, it would surely look like little more than a giant boulder with windows and a door. That unfortunately wasn't too far from the truth.

Deidara remained in his bed, trying to quietly stir as to not wake the other teens a little bit further down the lofty hall. It was too cold to want to quickly begin his daily activities, at that. The damp air that blew throughout the stone hallways made Deidara's primarily indoor existence utter torture. It didn't help that the Stone Village's climate always carried a twinge of a brisk chill in the wind, either.

Deidara's eyes slowly opened and closed as he turned onto his other side in the bed. He spent most of his time alone, and left to his own devices. That, in turn, lent him ample time to work on his favorite hobby; one of the few things that he wasn't forced to abandon along with his home. It was a small reminder that he was still, in fact, Deidara. His clay sculpting: the one thing that he could use to stand apart from the other thousands of nameless humans in his village was one of the few parts of Deidara that he didn't have to toss aside when he was forced to leave.

"Forced" might have been an exaggeration, however. There wasn't really anything there when it came time to actually leave. It wasn't like he had a real tie to that shack any longer.

There was a tapping noise that echoed throughout the halls, which snapped Deidara out of his woeful musings. One of the siblings woke up, it seemed. It wouldn't be long until that very child would come barreling into his room, jumping on his bed, demanding his attention be given entirely to them. He would dress them, wash them, and care for them as any parent would. There in which lied the problem: there were no parents to care for these darlings, so the burden fell onto Deidara - the oldest child in the homestead. Regardless of his lack of blood relation to the two, this wasn't some uncommon, uncouth practice. Parents around to raise a child were actually a rarity in his village; even when his family was still alive, his older brother bared most of the responsibility for Deidara's raising.

Needless to say, look at what the _hell_ happened there.

Deidara hastily fixed his hair as the tapping on the door began, trying to look like he hadn't just woken up, as well. Judging by the lighter sound the footsteps made, it was undoubtedly the girl: Kurotsuchi. Her sibling, Akatsuchi, was nowhere near as graceful in his footing. One look at the two could make anybody see the difference.

"Come in," Deidara said as he groggily slid out of his bed.

The door flung open to reveal the sight of his small girl; a pixie in size with a haircut to match. Her dark eyes looked up at Deidara with a twinkle in them, as if in admiration. His little one clung to him, her arms wrapped tightly around his waist as she made indistinguishable noises of delight. He couldn't blame her - her real father wasn't around very often these days, and her mother wasn't really "there" anymore either. It was only natural that she would cling to the first parent she was given.

"Big brother! Lazy, indulgent big bro! You were asleep this whole time!" Kurotsuchi half-scolded. She couldn't truly exert any real authority over Deidara, but she could mask her well-warranted criticisms with a playful banter. Deidara had no choice but to play along, even when she went out of line; he still wasn't a genuine heir to the line of Kage in the village. His residency here was a mere courtesy, not a right. One retaliation could place him in the same grave his parents and brother laid in to fester.

"I was not, hmph!" Deidara protested, but Kurotsuchi had already moved past the nonexistent argument.

The smaller child opened a dresser drawer and pulled out a silken, blue robe. She handed it to Deidara. "You can't walk around in just pajamas, big brother. Cover up, or you'll get yelled at by grandpa again!"

Deidara hastily put the robe over his equally-blue pajamas. Having so many beautiful clothes specifically made for different occasions was a foreign concept to him, which made him wonder why the Tsuchikage was alright with such lavish excess while his people lived in squalor. It was best that his mouth remained shut, though. No need to poke the ever-generous, yet hypocritical bear. That complaint was, frankly, minor. Especially when held against the many other oddities Deidara had bore witness to in these past few months.

"Isn't your uncle coming to visit soon, hm?" Deidara asked with a yawn. He tied his hair into a loose braid behind him; Kurotsuchi's grandfather - The Tsuchikage - had reprimanded him over his unmanly blond locks before, as well as his strong aversion to the attire of a well-off man. He simply never thought of those things until it became obvious that it wasn't actually normal to walk about as a ragamuffin, especially in the custody of one so high in society. Being sheltered in a valley hidden by mountains, far north of the Stone Village, had skewed his perception of normalcy a great deal it seemed.

Just then, a softened thud echoed throughout the halls outside. It seemed that Akatsuchi was awake now, too. Before too much time had passed, the incredibly tall child was standing in the doorway before Deidara and Kurotsuchi. He was taller than Deidara despite being a year younger, and wider than both he and the girl put together; if it wasn't for their father, Kitsuchi, being of a similar build Deidara would have never guessed that these two were full-blooded, biological siblings.

"Big brother! Good morning!" Kurotsuchi gave her customary formal bow, hands folded at her waist. Deidara, being so common, never received such a formality from a princess. He could tell that she tensed up a bit when she had to go through the motions of her birthright; she didn't look like she cared much for her station at all when it came right down to it. He bowed too, hands firmly at his sides. It wasn't worth it to dispute the systems in place within the palace that birthed them.

"Morning to you both. I figured you'd be in here with your new mommy, you two seem to have gotten off to a great start. That's definitely going to make uncle Han and Roshi really happy!" Akatsuchi said with a smile. Deidara's face grew red; he abhorred the various titles some of the residents of this manor had given him, but "Mommy" had to be the most rage-inducing. Whoever was the original source of that title, which was one of the first things he'd been called here, would meet a grim end if Deidara ever found the true culprit.

"I pref-" Deidara was cut off by Kurotsuchi before he could say anything on his own.

"He likes being called Big Brother, Aka-Chan! Mommy is a stupid name!" Kurotsuchi stuck her tongue out after her tiny decree. It made sense that she didn't like that name very much, since her actual mother hadn't lived up to her title at all. That was what little information Deidara was told, at least.

"Alright, alright. Just keep calm, Kuro-Chan. We have a guest this evening, remember?" Akatsuchi said, giving a nod to Deidara. Not sure what he meant by that, and not willing to ask, the oldest child cleared his throat.

"Ahem, why don't we just go and have breakfast together, hm?" Deidara said, attempting to diffuse the situation before it got awkward. The silence that already dominated the manor and the village surrounding it was too overbearing as it was. The three hurriedly left Deidara's sleeping chamber and made their way to the great hall, silently agreeing to keep the conversations light for the morning.

When the three teens finally were seated at the dining table they tried to eat quickly and silently, as not to alert anyone that they were up and about. Despite the sibling's fondness of Deidara, he wasn't exactly "permitted" to eat with the noble family. He could stand off to the side and watch, or eat in the butler's pantry, but to eat at the same table as the royal-equivalent in the Stone Village without explicit permission was regarded as a cause for dismissal for a regular servant. Deidara, despite being given a room and all the luxuries the siblings enjoyed, was seen as little more than a live-in nanny in the eyes of most adults in the homestead. If he were to be dismissed, he would face homelessness, and a bitter cold winter that he would more-than-likely not survive. He would be face-down on the pavement of this city within a month's time, if he was one of the lucky ones.

"So, little brother, you said we have a guest this evening, hm? Has your uncle finally arrived in town?" Deidara said as he picked at his bowl of oats and fruit. Akatsuchi looked up from his gruel, darting his eyes around the room to check for signs of any eavesdroppers before he gave his answer.

"Our uncle Han is visiting tonight. I wasn't supposed to talk to you about it, but no one will actually tell me why. It's kinda mean if you ask me, you're practically family now," Akatsuchi said, his voice as quiet as possible. Kurotsuchi continued eating her own breakfast, thinking nothing of the situation. Every bit as confused by the aversion the adults had to telling Deidara that the guest they were expecting was just her father's older brother, she didn't feel the need to interject.

"Sounds pretty dubious, doesn't it, hm?" Deidara said softly, his breakfast slowly becoming forgotten.

"I don't get this secretive attitude people have right now either. So what if he has a horse nobody likes? The horse I was given was a huge problem too, and you don't see the town chasing _me_ out at any chance it gets. We just put it down like a normal society," Kurotsuchi said, an indifferent tone in her words. Though rather shocking for a person from a neighboring land, a little girl talking so crassly about a subject like death was per the norm in this hardened country.

Akatsuchi's face twisted for a brief moment, "Kuro-Chan, that's not really the same..."

"I'm just saying! Nothing about our uncles makes any sense! Uncle Roshi and Uncle Han should be able to stay here, shouldn't they? It's so weird," Kurotsuchi said, trying to contain her voice.

"Yeah, I agree with you that it's not right. I just don't think you have the full story quite yet," Akatsuchi said.

"Fine, fine. Besides, we should focus more on our lessons for today. Right, Aka-Chan?" Kurotsuchi said with a smile. That smile meant one thing was on her mind - training.

Training was every day except for Saturday, which was the general day for leisure in the Stone Village. It was a favorite activity for Kurotsuchi, and she showed strong promise to become the heiress to the Tsuchikage position. That in-and-of-itself was a good thing, as Onoki was getting up there in age and would need to have one of his grandchildren take the position eventually. Kurotsuchi was the perfect choice, even able to surpass any bias that may have been held against her for her gender. She truly was a war princess, one never quite comfortable with a time of peace. That was all the DNA testing you needed to prove that she was Onoki's granddaughter, a born aggressor himself.

"Will I be watching as usual, hm?" Deidara asked. He normally was not trained along the two, but he was more than welcome to be on the sidelines in case one of the other siblings needed a quick encouraging pick-me-up from their "nanny".

The two siblings gave a weary smile, knowing full-well of Deidara's nonexistent aptitude for any form of justu. Even Taijutsu proved to be too much in its most basic form for Deidara to grasp, and he could barely handle a kunai knife without cutting his own hand. Such was the fate of one who lived in the mountains far north most of their life; the need for such things wasn't there, so naturally, neither was the skill.

"You don't _have to_ , per se, though it's always nice to have you around. I like the audience~" Kurotsuchi said with a giggle.

"Mind if I take a bit of a stroll along the creek when we get there? The Autumn is almost over, it'll be nothing but snow soon. Is that alright with you, hm?" Deidara asked as he got up and gathered the dishes to wash from the trio's breakfast.

"Well, it's all good with us, but it isn't really _us_ that you should be asking," Kurotsuchi pointed to the crest that hung over the table, one that bore the Kanji for Earth. It was the mark of the true highest authority in this land - the Tsuchikage. As Deidara glanced upward to the dark umber crest, he was reminded that he had a duty to the Tsuchikage each morning, as well.

As Deidara ran the dishes under water in the scullery, he turned back into the dining hall briefly to pardon himself from the group. "You two go on without me for a little, I have to do the usual routine with Onoki-Sama," Deidara said, bowing as he quietly exited the room.

He was still rather unwelcome; he needed to tread lightly when he wasn't being escorted by another. Thankfully the pathway to Onoki's sleeping chamber wasn't very hard to get to; it almost spoke of how proud he truly was, to have his room be the most easily found in the homestead. It _invited_ challengers.

As Deidara walked up to the door which contained the most combat-weathered Kage alive, a man as old as most trees in his garden, he stopped abruptly before he knocked on his door. He could hear voices talking inside, of which he could only make out the old Tsuchikage's. No one else who spoke had even an ounce of familiarity in their voice to Deidara. In fact, they sounded like they were from another country. Visitors were not a concept in the hostile earth country, so it was probably best to book it for an easily-dispatched commoner such as Deidara before he got caught.

It was probably for the best that he didn't hear a word of whatever was being discussed in that room. It would have been. Before he could make a swift turn back to where his charges would still be, he managed to hear but one thing said in that chamber.

"This better be worth my time. Yer group have been nothin' but impressive so far, but this might be where I draw the line."

It was Onoki. What the context was, who he was talking to, all of it Deidara tried to walk away from. It worked, to an extent. He made his way down the stairs to the main floor before he heard anything truly incriminating. His words were like a breeze, silent and meaningless. There would be no conceivable way to get anyone to believe Deidara over the Tsuchikage, so it was best that he continue to ignore it.

Before Deidara made it to the dining hall, he noticed a couple dark figures by the front door. They were still, almost artificial-seeming people. Maybe they were a new type of guard that was being implemented? Deidara tried to reassure himself that he wasn't in on a conspiracy; Onoki was a noble old man, not some paranoid schemer. He couldn't simply jump to the worst possible scenario without combing through the alternatives; that wouldn't be respectful to the man who saved him from starvation.

He opened the door to the hall at last, and his troubles seemingly melted away when he saw two people who had his best interest at heart. One day, hopefully not long from now, Kurotsuchi would be the Tsuchikage and he would have a world that was more accepting of one not born in fortune. Deidara smiled, even though the two siblings looked puzzled to see him back so soon. Usually he would be in the Tsuchikage's chambers helping him for at least half-an-hour.

"You're back already? Is grandpa alright?" Akatsuchi asked, a worried tone in his voice.

Deidara played it cool, and shrugged. "Yeah, he's fine, hm. He was busy when I knocked, so I just figured I'd go back to you two for now, hm."

"You're _sure_ gramps is okay?" Kurotsuchi asked, a bit more forceful than her brother.

"Yes, yes. He's fine, don't worry so much, hm. If you'd like to check on him yourself, go right ahead," Deidara said, trying to keep his alibi as honest as possible. He didn't want to weave a spiderweb of lies, as his brother used to tell him.

The two seemed content with his story, and left it at that. Before long, a couple of older servant women came into the dining hall to gather the siblings for their training. Deidara had been standing off to the side in case something like that did happen, which was usually the right thing to do. It did mean he'd miss out some meals occasionally, however. The servants shot Deidara some kind of dirty look; it seemed they weren't quite used to having half of their job usurped just yet. Nevertheless, Deidara briefly retired to his own room to get in a proper outfit for the morning activities; it wasn't worth it to dwell on other's opinions right now.

Deidara took it upon himself to make sure that the siblings were dressed appropriately for the chilly morning, but not before he bundled himself up in a coat and scarf to keep warm. Gloves were spared, however. They got in the way of his sculpting, which was his precise plan for spending time away from the others. Once he safely secured a good-sized mound of molding clay in his coat pocket, he checked in on Kurotsuchi and Akatsuchi. Deidara fussed with their attire a little, as usual. When he felt that they were appropriately dressed for training and would not be hindered, he allowed the two servants to escort them to the training grounds.

His coveted free time drawing near at last, Deidara quietly followed the servants and siblings to the fields that outlined the city to the west. The walk was long, but boring. Nothing really got in the way of the trio, save for the occasional person that shoved past them. The grass had turned brown, and the red leaves on the surrounding trees were beginning to fall off and blow in the wind around them. The sky way gray and overcast; the air so cold that it stung Deidara's eyes. The creek was beyond a small thicket of trees, of which most still had a good amount of leaves on the branches. It was perfect for hiding, and some peaceful meditation.

Kitsuchi was waiting there when the trio arrived at the designated training ground. Kurotsuchi and Akatsuchi gave a bow out of formality to their father, while Deidara lowered himself on his knees to bow properly to one so far above him. Kitsuchi gestured for his children to come to him, and Deidara drifted off to the side of the manicured grass. It wouldn't be long before he was completely forgotten, and - if history had proven anything - he would not be missed for a couple of hours. They knew that he knew he had nowhere else to go but back to the manor when the sun set.

The exchange of sparring blows commenced shortly after, allowing Deidara to silently excuse himself from the grounds. Kitsuchi was a far more agreeable man than Onoki; he never questioned Deidara's desires for some minor freedoms. He was thankful Onoki was consumed by the meeting he had accidentally overheard, or he would have spent at least ten minutes laying out an exact time frame for his walk in the woods.

The cool morning air and dew that coated the grass under his sandals provided Deidara with a sense of comfort; it was just like this back in the valley where he grew up. Even the vibrant trees, the sounds of an owl in the distance, and the bugs that would harmonize periodically made him feel at ease. It helped him work on his clay sculpting because it reminded him of a time that he thought things lasted forever.

How foolish a boy he was, to think that he lived in a just kingdom where no one could die.

He knew better now. Deidara hadn't really finished any sculpture he started since he arrived here, and he didn't plan on it. Nothing could be stuck with; he couldn't see anything through to the end. Every thing he created would be crumpled up, and rebuilt in a never-ending cycle of madness. This would be no different; as he sat under a tree to work, he knew this little clay bird in his hands would be nothing more than an indistinguishable mess when he decided to head back.

Nevertheless, he was extremely focused on his work. A rustling bush had come to mean a woodland creature was nearby to Deidara, so he ignored it as usual when it happened this time. Almost completely unfazed by the world around him, it came as quite a shock when out from the corner of his eye a flash of stark red fleetingly rushed before him.

Deidara let out an audible gasp; what was that? _Who_ was that? Should he run, but to whom? He couldn't endanger the noble family, assuming there was an enemy. Frozen, Deidara couldn't quite make a decision. He figured it was better to reveal no information, as it had been a couple minutes since the sighting and whatever that was hadn't returned yet. He was just a common boy, relaxing in the woods while he sculpted a little clay bird. There was no need to make himself known as anything other than what he was.

It wasn't long until Deidara's concerns became reality, though. As he clung to the trunk of the maple tree in apprehension, an unknown figure appeared before the boy. He wasn't a very standout individual, aside from his hair being a cartoonish red color. Everything about him said "harmless", from the neutral shades of his peasant clothes to his calm - yet inexplicably mocking - gaze. His chocolate brown eyes darted over to Deidara, though he didn't move very much at all. It was obvious that this boy didn't want a fight, at least not with him.

"Hello there, what brings you to these parts, hm?" Deidara said, rising to his feet to greet the young man.

The redheaded boy looked at Deidara as if he had just preformed some foreign act, almost puzzled by the blatant hospitality. His expression went unchanged, though Deidara could tell that the cogs in his head were turning on how to give a proper response.

"That probably doesn't matter. I would suggest going somewhere else, if that's not too much trouble," the boy said, directly looking into Deidara's eyes.

"Why? Is something going to happen, hm?" Deidara asked.

"You _probably_ do not want any knowledge I can give. I'd just take the suggestion, but don't take it as an insult. I'm just not in the mood to risk any lives today," he said, heaving his shoulders.

Deidara mulled over what to say next, but ultimately decided to give the usual formal bow and take his leave without another word. Impersonal, but effective in his country when you needed to leave quickly without making things awkward. It was probably for the best, he thought. He wasn't particularly in the mood to gamble his life this morning, either.

Deidara had barely made it out of the forest clearing before Kurotsuchi had spotted him; she darted over to her fake parent and embraced him in a hug. The force of the tackle was enough to make Deidara stumble, but he collected himself in time to return the gesture. He was rather upbeat now, as it wasn't every day that he met a stranger in such a manner. It was like he had a little secret he could keep all to himself.

"Big brother! Uncle Han is here! He's _ri-ight_ over there, the one with all the armor on! Can you see him? I was just about to come get you so you can meet him!" Kurotsuchi said, pointing over to a rather tall man in a very noticeably red armor that covered his entire body. Almost all of his body was covered, save for his eyes.

He took notice of the two siblings, though he didn't wave back when Kurotsuchi did so. Deidara felt uneasy at the sight of him, but if he really was his surrogate daughter's Uncle then he most likely didn't have much to worry about. The duo made their way over to where the others were, which had a somewhat larger group than before. Onoki was there, as were several servants from the manor along with Kurotsuchi's sullen-looking biological mother in the background. It was a rather large group of important figures - all for Han. Why did Deidara even need to be there? Wasn't this something that shouldn't concern him?

"There ya are, sonny. We've been wonderin' where ya got off to," Onoki said. Deidara sunk to his knees to greet his most superior, his head lowered.

"My apologies, I didn't know I would be needed so soon," Deidara said, giving all he had to hold back his speech impediment. He knew it wasn't a favorite of most people in the noble family.

Onoki turned to Han without another word to Deidara, "Well, what do ya think?"

Han remained silent, and Deidara kept his head down out of habit around his elders. Within the minute, Han walked away from the group and back toward the village. Sure that there would be tension, Deidara felt himself shrink when he took notice that everyone in the party was focused on him. He wanted to shrivel into a corner in that moment; only when he created a piece worth showing off did he want such intense attention on him. This was becoming too much, but he was determined to keep his composure.

Deidara took notice that Onoki was looking directly down at him, with a rather happy grin on his face. Confused, Deidara looked at him with pleading eyes for an answer for what was happening.

"Relax, Deidara. Yer problems are over now," Onoki said; rather kindly, Deidara noted. He was positive now that something was amiss.

Kitsuchi approached Deidara and lifted him from his kneel, his arm wrapped tightly around Deidara's shoulder. Deidara could barely move in such a lock, let alone run. Whatever was going to happen was not favorable to him, so he braced himself for the inevitable end.

"I'll bring you back to town. We have to get you ready for tonight," Kitsuchi said as he began to walk away with Deidara firmly in his hold.

Deidara looked up at him, his concern ever-growing. "What's going to happen tonight, hm?" he asked.

"My brother must have liked the look of you, which is good news for you. You'd know if he didn't," Kitsuchi said as he continued walking at a steady pace.

"Why? I don't really understand what's happening, hm," Deidara said, his breathing labored from the brisk pace Kitsuchi kept him at.

"You'd have been killed right there if he didn't like what he saw, though I don't think the alternative is much better myself. I'm still glad at least someone will be there to do what needed to be done eventually, might as well be you."

Deidara was now completely shaken. He hadn't the faintest idea what "needed to be done", but he was terrified to find out. As they approached the imposing manor, Kitsuchi handed Deidara off to three female servants who grabbed ahold of him hastily before Deidara could react. He didn't bother to struggle; he had spent three months with people he assumed were trustworthy, and he didn't want to lose that to something he didn't know the full story of yet.

"I wish you the best of luck, Deidara," Kitsuchi said before the manor door shut with an echoing thud, sounding almost final.

Deidara was led by the three women to a parlor not too far from the entrance. It was adorned with fragrances, makeup, and several gowns and kimono to adorn the most noble of women in the Stone Village on only the most ceremonious of occasions. As Deidara glanced up to the white satin fabric and rabbit furs that were hung just above the vanity, he knew what was going to be taking place tonight. There was no other way to explain it, and no way he could deny the truth any longer.

Without any way to fight back, Deidara obediently sat down on the vanity bench and allowed the women to begin on what was needed to prepare him for his wedding.

 **-and-and-and-and-and-**

 ** _a/n: This was just a small fun project I played around with for a little while. I do appreciate any advice on how characters or places should be._** ** _Unfortunately, the Stone Village in the canon has some of the worst world building I've ever seen. So I've had to play connect the dots to tie most things into the canon, and mad libs with the rest. I'll probably continue this at a leisurely pace._**


	2. Leaves of Red

_"You filthy beast."_

 _That was his name, wasn't it? Deidara, roughly meaning mud monster, knew now why he would be called such a name. He was not wanted; they were fine before him, they were happy without him. They were_ alive _without him._

Everyone _was better off without him. He could only look into the mirror in the dim yellow candlelight, and see the face of the filthy beast that was foolish enough to_ _believe they cared for him._

Brushes wove through his long, blond locks as Deidara was prepped for the ceremony. He remained silent, and as stiff as possible. He didn't want to upset anyone by jerking away at a painful tug on his scalp, even if it truly did hurt every now and then. He was prompted to dress in a small room separate from the women helping him; most likely because he was still a boy, just a very effeminate one.

Which prompted the train of thought of just _how_ this union was going to work. Children were usually a requirement for a functional marriage in this country; if you didn't provide at least one son, your husband was usually given permission to kill you. Something was definitely not right, and Deidara figured he needed to know _what_ exactly the truth was if he was genuinely going to be marrying this man.

As Deidara tied the obi of the garment around himself, he looked back to his reflection in the mirror. He had never seen his hair so neatly brushed, and his nails looked so _clean_. It was a bit of a shock to him, though he did approve of the way his hair was tied back. Maybe one day he could adapt that into a more casual style, especially if he would be taken away from this manor after tonight. No longer would he have to deal with Onoki's constant nagging to do something about his "rat's nest" of a mane, which suited him just fine.

Deidara reentered the parlor and sat back down on the bench; almost like clockwork, the servants wasted no time in continuing with the preparations. Unfortunately for Deidara, makeup was mandatory. His youthful skin didn't require much, but he was forced to endure a blend of powders and some kind of eye paint. His eyes were outlined with a liner - the only change on his face he actually liked, and his lips were painted with a coral pigment. Looking at himself now, the difference was almost night and day between his normal look and this woman he saw in the mirror. It almost fooled even him; he could barely associate himself with his own reflection.

It wasn't even high noon yet, and Deidara's seemingly banal day had taken an unanticipated - as well as unwanted - turn. His life was no longer his own; he couldn't "just leave" any longer when death sounded like a more palatable alternative to being the glorified royal prisoner. He was now property; a commodity, for the less empathetic. To be exchanged and used, dragged through this life like a helpless rag doll; _that_ was what awaited a young bride in this country.

Yes, Deidara knew _exactly_ what became of the children wed to an older man. He had seen what were once those unfortunate children after they had oxidized a bit on a few of his walks through the forests with his older brother when he was younger.

 _"Look away, little brother. That is not your future, that is not you."_

Deidara almost smiled at the irony. What a stupid boy he was; no human alive could walk as a god amongst men, free of the sin of lying. His brother was no god, he was just a nameless body in some pit.

A woman - the oldest of the three - tapped Deidara's shoulder, gesturing over to the door that led back to the main hall. Deidara had to make a choice right now; did he want to spend the rest of his life as a servant, or did he _just_ need a _few_ minutes to use the bathroom - and never be heard from again?

Deidara ultimately decided it was better to roll the dice than to never try at all. He looked to the older woman with pleading eyes, using the best sympathetic face he could muster. With his legs crossed deliberately, he directed his gaze over to the latrine on the other side of the hall - one with a window that led to an alleyway. It was his best bet, and if he could maneuver his path _just_ right he could be halfway back to his home valley by nightfall.

A dirty look appeared on the woman's face, but she let out a resigned sigh. She probably saw through that, as old as she was. Deidara hoped she simply was too old to care, but gave a final bow - one of gratitude - regardless of her intentions and "momentarily" excused himself.

Deidara took great care in shutting the door softly, to keep up the appearance of an inconspicuous boy with a deer in headlights look in his eyes. He even jiggled the knob just to ensure that he let people nearby know he was a nervous wreck. The room was small, and the window was only a tiny square - he would need to strategize briefly.

Upon examining himself, he knew the outer layer of the kimono and the rabbit fur had to go. He also took care to loosen his hair while he was at it, as such a fancy style would make him stand out - the worst possible thing right now. There was a happi robe hanging from the door, so he hastily replaced the fur and outer dress with that. The obi could stay; it was too much work to remove it quickly. The garish war paint tacked onto his face could prove useful as a disguise, so it was worth keeping it on as well. Deidara gave himself a once-over in the small mirror; he looked as a young, middle class girl would if she were walking about in the center of the city. It was serviceable, and it would have to do; he needed to leave right then, or he may get caught.

Deidara climbed onto the toilet, carefully prying the windowpane open as quietly as he could. With a few jiggles, the frame itself nearly detached from the home itself. Deidara held his breath at the sharp cracking of the aged wood as he frantically tried to keep the neglected structure from collapsing right there, but to no avail. The window was destroyed, but thankfully Deidara's handling of it prevented any loud noises from occurring. With his bare foot, he pressed down on the handle to flush the commode while he sprung out the window in the same movement.

Deidara tumbled out onto the cold stone pavement, wincing at the pain from the impact. _This was nothing_ , Deidara reassured himself. He needed to keep moving; one minute wasted by stalling was one minute he could have used to secure a safe escape. He clumsily stuffed the broken pane back into the now square-shaped hole in the Tsuchikage's manor, an offense he would hopefully never have to pay for. Deidara gave one last look back up to where his room was; there was no way he could go back for any of his last remaining things, so he would just have to leave whatever small trinkets he took with him to this forsaken place behind.

With little hesitation, Deidara made his best effort to appear as if he were calmly strolling through the mildly-crowded streets. All he had to do was head north from here, and once he got past a long stretch of dark woodlands he would be practically untouchable. There were few ninja in the Stone Village who dared to oppose the north - the unknown wild lands. Or, at least they were fabled to be so. Deidara knew that was mostly a myth, but it was a strongly believed-in myth for the southern people of the Earth Country. It was his most valuable asset, so the prejudice of the unknown was a welcome advantage to Deidara in this situation.

So far, so good. His easy, yet quick pacing method was proving useful, and he didn't even need to step foot in the Academy _once_ where the "elite" children would train to learn the single most important lesson of a ninja: stealth will be your savior, or your undoing. Deidara could even see the snow-capped mountains on the horizon, and his eyes lit up with an almost-forgotten hope upon the sight. He was really doing it; Deidara was going to truly outsmart a warlord of a Kage, and every subordinate under him. Within the next twenty-four hours, he would be almost home - almost free.

There was a light brush against his shoulder, but when Deidara briefly turned around he saw no one before him. He shrugged; it must have been an accident. Pressing onward, Deidara began to feel a sense of dread looming around him. It was just his emotions, he attempted to reassure himself that no one would be following him as he quietly panicked. Perish the thought, press onward, or press the issue and perish. That was the clear road map he had laid out in his mind, though even he knew it was easier said than done. He didn't even know of a punishment in existence for an offense like this; for all he knew, they would have to invent one if they actually managed to catch him. That thought was enough inspiration to keep going for Deidara, no matter how much he wanted to relax; he knew such a luxury would come later - just not now.

A good few minutes passed before Deidara felt a slight tap, with a bit more intensity this time. He jumped, but made a point to continue onward in spite of the distraction. Not even a matter of moments passed before Deidara was forcibly grabbed, a strong arm holding him in an all-too-familiar type of grip. It wasn't quite the same, however; he was being pushed firmly against the wall of some old stone building, so no one could actually see him. Deidara shifted his gaze briefly up towards the man in the red armor, with his face hidden and eyes that looked worn from life. It was his first really good look over of him, though he had hoped to never have had to do such a thing.

"You're annoying, you know that?" Han said, his voice low so only Deidara could fully understand what he told him.

"I'm-" Deidara was cut off by Han placing his hand around his mouth, muffling his voice.

"I don't want you to get the wrong idea, it's nothing you did. The last woman - some whore they dug up in a brothel - was such an insult that I just _lost control_ for a minute, and now they think they can double down on it with some _boy_ ," Han's usually quiet front was broken for a moment, unloading one little grievance of his onto the stranger he was supposed to accept as a spouse. Deidara listened, figuring it wasn't worth disputing this with someone every bit a part of this unwelcome union as he was.

"I can't say I blame you for wanting to run off. It saves us all a good amount of trouble, actually," Han said, his tone a bit more lighthearted than before.

After a short pause, Deidara said under his breath, "Then why don't you _let me_ , hm?"

"Explain to me how you're going to leave, if it's alright," Han said.

"Through the dark woods, and a couple of old mountain passes. Why, hm?" Deidara asked.

"Because I'd rather not feel responsible for a child's death, even if I understand their reasons. You'd likely be eaten by wolves or murdered by a rogue before you made it an hour through those woods," Han said, his words blunt.

"I made it here fine the first time," Deidara retorted.

"With a Kage, his guards, and likely a small army. You're telling me you've got a small army hidden under that rat's nest or something?" Han said.

Deidara winced at those words. _Rat's nest_ , was it? That was just about all he could take; he didn't care if this was his former charge's uncle, Han had crossed a line when he insulted Deidara the same way Onoki did. He tried to jerk away from him, or just loosen his grip; it was futile, but worth the statement it made. Han _did_ flinch when he protested, so to Deidara, the effort was not wasted at the very least.

"Woah there, Sundrop. If you want to march toward death, that's fine. I was just offering a more _safe_ alternative," Han hissed, so close to Deidara's ear that his breath warmed his cold-bitten cheek.

"What are you talking about, hm?" Deidara asked, his voice struggling to remain hushed.

"You're heading to the north valley, aren't you?" Han asked.

"Yeah, what of it, hm?" Deidara replied.

"I was about to venture up there myself, and maybe if we play this shit hand of ours right we can both get something better out of this," Han said, his grip loosening. Deidara knew that he would have to make the choice soon, and he would be free to make either from the looks of it. Perhaps Han wasn't the _worst_ human the Stone Village had spat out, if not by a large margin.

"So what you're saying is that we should go through with it? Hm? You don't really strike me as the perverted geezer type..." Deidara said, muttering the last bit from the embarrassment of the idea of it all.

"You're right about that, I'm not into that lifestyle. But us leaving together would give me enough cover to get my family off my back, and it would give you a bodyguard capable of protecting you on your way back home," Han said, his arm fallen back to his side. It seemed that Deidara needed to give an answer _now_ ; no more time could be taken.

"What about, ah, _you know_. _That_ , hm?" Deidara asked, his fingers fidgeting around a bit. Han seemed to understand the childishly-put question, though he didn't seem too bothered by it.

"It'll end unconsummated, go wherever you want after, just don't go back to Onoki," Han said as he waved his hand to gesture his indifference.

Deidara thought for a few seconds. Sure, he could risk it in the woods and remain completely free. He was also certain this wasn't the first time a youth would be offered such a deal, only to have it retracted once the bedding ceremony began. This was a tough decision, surely. Deidara might need to test the waters a _tiny_ bit more, however. He couldn't be certain that Han wasn't just lying out of his concealed teeth.

"Speaking of the Tsuchikage, what will we say when I come back with my kimono half-missing, hm?" Deidara asked.

"The truth. You got cold feet, we talked, and you came around. There's no need to hide that, worse could've happened," Han said reassuringly.

Deidara gave one final pause, "So, how will the ceremony go, hm?"

"Relatively small, and very private. That's how most Jinchuuriki get married, at least," Han said.

" _Jinchuuriki_? I've never heard of that term, is there something wrong with you?" Deidara asked, growing a bit concerned.

Han sighed, " _Damn mountain sprites_. Yeah, there is, actually. It's not worth discussing, since you're probably going to be gone by tomorrow morning."

"I suppose, hm. Should we get back to the manor, then?" Deidara asked, gesturing to the Kage's homestead in the distance.

"Very well. Just a heads up, this will be the last conversation we will have. I don't actually like humans, no offense," Han said.

Before Deidara could even respond, Han had already turned around back in the direction of the Kage's residence. Deidara huffed, somewhat flustered by his last comment, but not willing to press the issue much more. He was rather ashamed of his decision to return after so adamantly making the resolve to escape, but _c'est la vie_ , so the saying goes. It must have been a weaker resolve than he thought; he made a mental note that he _needed_ to train a bit once he got back to his home, so if this were to happen again he could hold some actual leverage.

The walk was short, yet quiet. Deidara didn't feel any tension between Han and himself, though he certainly didn't feel comfortable around him either. When they finally went through the door to the manor, it seemed nobody had anticipated their arrival. It was an empty house, at least for now. Deidara figured the actual ceremony would be held somewhere else; somewhere more fitting of a marriage of such a high profile.

Han pointed to the parlor area, "Go fix your kimono, and your rat's nest. I'll be waiting for you at the Temple of Arbor, so try to be ready in about half an hour or so."

Deidara nodded his head slowly, heading further into the parlor to correct his attire. He removed the happi robe, and found his outer robe and rabbit's fur were still hanging on the bathroom door. That meant nobody had seen it yet, or at least there was a good chance of that being the case. Regardless, Deidara headed to the changing parlor to attempt to fix his messy hair. He definitely couldn't restyle it back into its previous up-do, but he could certainly make it look a fair bit better. With nobody watching, Deidara also pocketed the eye liner that was left on the table; they could afford the loss.

When Deidara looked over to the clock, it read that it was nearly 5 P.M.. His heart skipped a beat; he was about to make such a huge leap, even if it wasn't truly going to land him where others expected it to. With that aside, he did wonder how Kurotsuchi and Akatsuchi were taking all of this. Were they upset? Distraught? Did they even care in the smallest amount? After all, they could easily find a new "mother" to care for the siblings. It was seen as a blessing to be a caged swallow in that home, as many others had reinforced throughout his stay here. He decided it was best to not concern himself with such thoughts for now.

Quietly, Deidara crept out into the main entrance to look around for anyone to escort him; he figured that at the very least he would require to be walked to a "Temple of Arbor" which he had never before seen in his life. Directions might be a requirement here; it wasn't as if he had a very well-drawn map to go by. On that thought, Deidara made a mental note to bring that up as a wedding gift; that would come in handy later to navigate the mountains.

Deidara stood there for a few moments, until he heard the light patter of someone's feet begin to descend the staircase. Maybe it was one of the unknown men with Onoki earlier in the day, or maybe it was just one of the servants going about their duties. Deidara need only glimpse out of the corner of his eye to see the flash of bright, stark red hair that he had been introduced to back in the woods. He looked down, oddly embarrassed at his current situation in a way that inhibited his usual inviting demeanor.

The young man looked over Deidara briefly, before abruptly clearing his throat. Deidara's head shot up, his focus was completely on the redhead now. The young man gave a half smile, his eyes telling of his disinterest. Deidara could relate all-too-well with that feeling, he would have strongly preferred to be in his room with a sculpture-in-progress in hands right now. With little noise, the mysterious man had fully descended the staircase and swiftly graced up to a little over a foot before Deidara.

His face somewhat flushed, Deidara sputtered, "D-Do you dance, hm?"

The strange man's nose crumpled, a rather odd mixture of disgust and bafflement smeared across his once placid face. Deidara kicked himself in his mind; what a stupid way to greet someone! What a dimwit he was, and what a spectacle he made! It was probably his nerves getting to him, but it was unfortunate to ward off someone he should have thanked from the very start.

"What kind of a stupid question is that? Who are you, anyway?" he said. The obvious annoyance in his words was enough to make Deidara's heart sink to his stomach; he just wanted someone to come get him before this got any worse.

"No-no-no-no-no, your footing was just so swift and light! I assumed you did, hm?" Deidara spat out, sloppily bowing to try and cover any negative feeling left.

"I don't."

"My apologies-"

"I'm going to go now. You're kind of annoying, frankly."

" _Thank you, hm_?!" Deidara called out just before the front door closed with a loud thud. He stood there for a brief moment, somewhat in a state of shock. He felt embarrassed, but also agitated. Did he have to be some important political figure or a royal family member to get any form of basic respect? Was that the secret to being treated like a human in this world?

Deidara only had to look around at the various looming paintings of all of the Tsuchikage - plus their beautifully-dressed families - to get his answer to that question.

It didn't take long before the same older servant found Deidara; she sighed, a resigned look about her. It must have disappointed her that he couldn't escape, or at least Deidara imagined it to be so. It was time to leave, however; Deidara couldn't ask for any more time. With his focus completely on what was ahead of him, the servant gently took Deidara by the arm and began to lead him to the Temple of Arbor.

The cold autumn afternoon was as peaceful as any other, with the snowy mountains illuminated by the orange and lavender sky. The red leaves blew with the breeze in a way that resembled a crackling hearth, at least to Deidara. It wouldn't be long until this was his existence; to raise a small garden, live off his family's land, and maybe even take a real spouse one day as well. Nothing but peace, until he would make a cold, clean break with history when he quietly passed on a night much like this one.

He hoped that when that time came, whenever it may, he could see a blaze of red like this before he went.

The temple itself was remarkably close, much to Deidara's surprise. It was probably as to not draw attention to a wedding such as this, and whatever a Jinchuuriki might be probably didn't want much attention either. The doors were already ajar; they were waiting for him inside. The stone steps seemed like a mountain in itself to Deidara, his legs trembling a slightly noticeable amount. The servant nudged him, putting her finger to her lips to tell him to be quiet as they walked inside. Deidara gave her a faint acknowledgement, then returned his focus to what was before him.

There were only a few people in attendance. Han, obviously, was at the end of the small front room beneath a statue of some woman. There was Onoki, with Kitsuchi by his side, along with his wife and their two children next to them. Both looked sullen, quietly eyeing Deidara as he was given to yet another face he did not recognize to be walked the rest of the way. He could hear even the soft footsteps he made, as the room was uncomfortably silent. It was to be expected, but it felt dreadful all the same. Once he was left beneath the statue with Han, Deidara gave a somewhat feminine bow; he wanted to at least _play_ the obedient servant while he was still subjected to it.

Han gripped Deidara's left hand, having him hold it in suspension for a moment. He tied a blue ribbon around the wrist, then placed his own hand parallel to Deidara's and wrapped the remainder of the ribbon around his own. This was the abridged version of a normally long and drawn out ceremony, probably to save time so Han could leave as soon as possible. All that was left was to say a vow, a single phrase usually concocted by the groom in the partnership; or in this case, the "man" would suffice.

"For the night," Han said, his voice monotonous.

"For the night," Deidara repeated, going through the motions to get to the finale of this drollery.

It was such a rebellious phrase, but its true intent was masked under the thin veneer of promise and adherence. If it could fool everyone here, it could get Deidara back to his home. It was more than worth it to make such an empty vow, one that lasted only a single night. It was truly a beautiful thought to hold on to; he would cherish this fleeting union as long as he would breathe.

The small crowd of people rose as Deidara turned to exit with his "husband", and followed the two out of the temple until they were at the bottom of the front steps. There was a horse waiting for the two; a stallion with a vibrant amber coat, and taller than any other horse Deidara had ever seen. Deidara jumped as he was lifted off the ground by Kitsuchi and placed on the back of the steed, followed by Han climbing atop at the harness. Deidara only caught a glimpse of Kurotsuchi sadly waving goodbye before the beast had trotted off, toward the dark woods that led to the little shack in that mountain valley.

Deidara squeezed his eyes shut; as much as he loathed being a servant, it was a shame to have to sacrifice caring for that girl. He would miss her, and hopefully one day they could meet again. He only hoped the next "mother" they found for her cherished her like a fine painting, and didn't casually toss her aside as her real mother had. He could tell it had an effect on her despite her cheerful attitude. Deidara buried his face in the kimono sleeves, the dark enshrouding his vision of anything in the world except the echoing clicks of the stallions hooves on the road.

Eventually, the crickets began to chirp in the cold night, the two travelers alone on a path that leads through a relatively untouched thicket of ebony trees with only a narrow dirt road for the men that chose to brave the trek. Deidara remained silent, as did Han. The two didn't really have anything to say; all that had been said before was everything that was necessary. There was only the occasional wolf's howl or frog's croak to get the couple to perk up. Deidara's eyelids were heavy, but he didn't want to sleep until he was safely at his home. He _couldn't_ sleep, not even if he tried; he was too nervous that he would end up in another trap if he even dared to rest.

He must have kept his eyes closed for an awfully long time, however, because he could make out the end of the dark woods in the far distance. The stallion must have helped speed things up exponentially; the marriage might have been worth the free ride. Han practically exuded terror from the mere look of him, so any bandit might have thought twice about confronting them, if any had been around at all. He had never heard of bandits in his home, and the idea of robbing someone with nothing to give seemed a little pointless. It was probably another urban legend from the south, as most terrifying stories of the north were.

"This will lead us to the correct pass, Sundrop. Once we're past that we'll be at your precious valley, and I won't remain too far off from you," Han said quietly, breaking the symphony of nature Deidara had been left with all this time.

"Why is that, hm?" Deidara asked, his voice a bit hoarse from exhaustion.

"We're being followed," Han said.

Deidara froze up; was it one of Onoki's guards? A bandit? Or was it some animal that liked the idea of the horse they were riding on? He couldn't tell by looking around the last part of the forest, and not even once they were out of the woods did he even see any sign of a pursuer. Whatever was following them was stealthy; probably a ninja, mostly like a guard in case anything interfered. Deidara didn't know why this was so important, but it must have been a high priority to get this man married off to whoever they could find. He couldn't imagine _why_ , though.

The pass really _was_ a tight fit; it could barely give enough room for the steed to move normally. It was only going at a slight trot by this point; most likely due to the loud echo that would alert the entire north of their presence if he went to fast. It was a very safe play, and any ambush would be faced with a great challenge with the space given to land a proper attack. Plus, Deidara could always use his _own_ little quirk if it came down to his life.

It wasn't really anything special, though his mother had told him for as long as he could remember to not alert anyone of his possession of it. Something about being forced into the " _Explosion Corps_ " if anyone caught wind of his abilities. His father and brother both had it, but his mother didn't. She mentioned once she wished it had been different with Deidara for a reason she never made known, and he never really bothered to ask her why. It was probably just one of her neurotic panic attacks when she had let that slip; nothing worth caring about.

That was probably why when he would take a scalding hot bath and not even flinch, others were terribly confused by his peculiar actions. Or maybe he shocked a servant when he picked up a hot tray with little effort and set it on the table as if it were nothing, and acted puzzled when others asked if he was insane. He probably was, considering nobody else he had met in the Stone Village could not be burnt the way he could; and the explosions he could create from his hands were no exception.

Before long they had arrived at a familiar mountain clearing; his home, only a few miles away from where he was now. It all seemed so surreal, but fitting. Han had kept his promise, much to Deidara's relief. He didn't know exactly what a Jinchuuriki was, but Deidara generally assumed he could not win a match against any trained ninja regardless of their class. He let out a small sigh of relief as they arrived in the valley; just a little bit longer, _just a little bit further and he would be free_.

A little while later, the two approached a small house several hundreds of yards away from Deidara's destination. Han stopped the steed, climbing off himself first but left Deidara on. Unsure if he was giving him the steed or not, Deidara turned his head over to the direction of his home. Han nodded, gesturing to the horse.

"Keep him, I've got my own. It was nice to know you, Sundrop," Han said.

"Han, uh, _thank you_. I don't know how I can repay you, hm," Deidara said, his head lowered even though he was taller than him while on the stallion.

"Just go, if those two are going to ambush me, I'd rather be alone," Han said. Deidara nodded in agreement, using the reins to try and maneuver the horse to turn for him. It worked, to an extent; the horse must have been used to his scent and feel after that long ride.

He barely even gave Han a final glance before he was already bolting across the field on his new horse. He would have to find a name for him soon, which would give him something to think about while he started up his fields. There were so many things he could do now; he might even dedicate the time to becoming a famous artist, as this country was severely lacking in such a culture. The thoughts of his endless future almost completely blinded him to the dark figure standing only yards away from his old home; it wasn't until the stallion started to get nervous and attempted to buck Deidara did he take notice of the unwanted presence.

Deidara stopped and jumped down from the steed, rushing to the front door of his house. The night worsened his vision considerably, but he could still make out the dull red in the dim moonlight. Deidara breathed a sigh of relief; he knew that flash of red anywhere by now.

"I'm glad you could make it all the way here, hm," Deidara said, his voice ringing with warmth.

He heard a nauseating series of clicks, almost as if bone joints and wood were mashed together in a sickening twist. The young man did not speak, at least not for a brief moment. There was a small hiss, one of ignition. _This man_ , Deidara now thought, might actually be trying for his life. For whatever reason he had come up with, Deidara was worth killing.

"Your silence is necessary. Rest assured, your husband will be taken good care of. It's not as if _child whores_ have much of a place in this world, anyway."

That was the final thing Deidara heard before the bright, scorching flames appeared from seemingly nowhere. With his hand outstretched in a futile attempt to stop him, he saw his arm be engulfed in the dancing blaze. His home would only add to the kindling, and his horse as well. Deidara closed his eyes; he fell to the ground in exhaustion. There was nothing he could do now but burn, and he didn't want to see what would happen after this debacle. Deidara could make out the pained whinnies of his stallion as it burned alive with him, until he finally gave in to a much-wanted unconsciousness.

 **-and-and-and-and-and-**

 _Ashes_.

The grey earth beneath him smelled of burnt flesh and kindlewood; an overcast morning with looming grey skies starkly contrasted to the vibrant red trees scattered around the valley. The grass was singed, brown, and dead. There was but a charred mess where the stallion once proudly stood, and the home he had almost made it back to now had been wiped from the earth.

Somewhat shaken, Deidara rose from where he had fallen last night. His clothes were destroyed, and his skin and hair were covered with ash and grime. He wanted to yell, but what would that do? Wherever the red-headed bastard had gone, it couldn't have been far enough to not hear his rage and vengeful cries. There was one thing that no northern or southern resident of the earth country could ever disagree on, and that was if one's life was ruined you have the backing of the Earth Mother herself to hunt down and kill whoever wronged you.

There was nothing here any longer. Deidara feebly dug through the ashes, with little results in the way of surviving items. It must have been a powerful blaze; thankfully his mouth had been kept tightly shut about his slight immunity to extreme heat. The same couldn't be said for much else, sadly. It was a given that Han was gone, as well. _Possibly_ , at least. He may have been able to overpower them, but _two_ of these guys? That was unfortunately unlikely, as much as Deidara wanted them to have been sent running with their tails between their legs.

It was probably hours later that Deidara heard footsteps circling around him. The armor was nearly destroyed, and his face bloodied; he looked as if he had been up the entire night from the bags under his eyes. He looked almost terrified when he saw Deidara's naked form digging through the ashes and rubble, but he steadily approached the young man until he stood before him. Much to Deidara's surprise, Han kneeled down to Deidara with his head lowered.

"Blood of the stones, you are just like the Mother herself," Han said, his breath bated.

Deidara silently gazed back to Han, curious by his statement.

"They said they'd send someone else, someone much more powerful. I don't know when," Han continued as Deidara remained silent.

Han held out a headband, with a Stone Village symbol on the plate. Deidara began to breathe heavily; he knew he was not worthy of such an honor, yet he was being handed it practically for free.

"They asked for me to come with them, and I told the smarmy bastards to piss off. I will need a second mouth to tell him the same when they send the next piece of shit to try it again, and you might be worth it enough to put a little time into," Han said, handing the headband to the dumbfounded Deidara.

"Like the _Mother_ , hm?" Deidara muttered, still so torn over the losses.

"Yeah, in a way. With an ability like that, you're nigh indestructible. At least if you keep a distance, which is what we'll need to help you with," Han said.

"Are we still, _you know_ , hm?" Deidara asked.

"Forget the damn marriage, neither of us wanted it. I can probably get my brother to come help a little bit too, you'll probably like Roshi," Han said, trying to reassure Deidara.

As he looked around him, there was nothing left to hold on to. There was only a faint memory that may soon be forgotten by anyone who existed; lost to time itself. Deidara didn't know _what_ that red-headed man even took from him, but it still was a huge thorn in his side for now. Deidara looked down to his hands; the Stone Village's crest was something he never thought he would own. He could travel freely across the world with this if he really wanted to; there was nothing that could stand in his way if he actually managed to master that volatile explosion release that had plagued his family for so long.

With any form of luck, he may even be able to leave a lasting scar on this world - far greater than this field of ash he stood in.

 **-and-and-and-and-and-**

 **A/N: I apologize if there are any grammatical or spelling errors, sleep is for the weak or some crud. I kind of need some though.**


	3. A Cold Wind Blows Here

_Deidara looked upon the barren field, utterly numb to the nip of the cold winds that carried through this hollowed land. Alone, as always._

 _"Are you happy?_ _Are you satisfied with yourself, you filthy beast?"_

 _These were the questions racing through Deidara's mind as he looked onward at the wreckage. There was nothing here; there was_ no one _here. Was this the moment he should have given up? Or did he seal his fortune forsaken from an act much, much earlier in his life? A time when no living creature should even be_ thinking _about the finite nature of this cursed existence._

The color of the trees soon browned which prompted the leaves to fall off, leaving the branches barren at the beginning of winter. Snow had begun to dust the valley where Deidara was training, and as such his Kekkei Genkai was somewhat weakened by the dampness of the earth beneath his feet. He could only improve so much in these next several months, and there was no telling when another one of those men Han had described would show up again. That simply would not do at all.

Deidara snapped his fingers again; the small ignition that burst out was barely enough to burn a twig. His chakra control was subpar at best, and the very little improvements made in the past month had all been in his hand signs. He still needed to study most of them, but he could barely make out the kanji in the books provided to him. Who could have predicted that he would need to learn to read one day? Certainly not he, and most _certainly_ not his family; they had lived their entire lives getting by on the most basic of texts.

With another swift motion, Deidara kicked his right leg in the air. It proved to be useless though, as his feet couldn't even manage to produce his own ability. What's worse: he flailed about like a fish out of water when he attempted what could be considered "Taijutsu"; though that still was a bit of a generous term for the pathetic feat. Deidara knew he had to get better than this, and _soon_. He hoped that Roshi was almost at the valley where he and Han were staying; the latter was not a very competent teacher as it turned out, and time was of the essence in this situation.

The supposed "teacher" in question was in the home he made for himself while Deidara trained a few dozen meters away from anything that could be a potential liability. Han was probably cooking one of the vile lunches he taught himself to make; it was a wonder to Deidara that no one stopped him after all these years to tell him just _how_ disgusting they were. Even though Deidara's prowess was a joke for the time being, Han took slight pleasure in his near fail-safe ability to light the stove. There was almost no chance of Deidara destroying the house, which was a bit of an insult to a boy who's Kekkei Genkai was designed to bring absolute destruction on a large scale.

"Monkey..." Deidara said under his breath, placing his left-hand flat on top of the right in a slight clasp. The hard part was the "ram" sign; Deidara couldn't get through a single chain of his release signs without completely butchering the second. Between his fingers getting tangled, and his sluggish pace with restarting the command an enemy could kill him quite easily as he was now.

Deidara expectedly fumbled around the "ram" once more as his fingers fidgeted to find their space in time. Yet another futile attempt to learn what was considered on a small child's learning level, much to Deidara's dismay. He wouldn't admit this to Han, but he felt like an utter failure. The only thing standing between him and throwing in the towel once and for all was a vast stretch of uncharted land, which he would surely not survive on his own in if he chose to venture further into it.

The scent of smoke drifted through the cold air until it reached the young man in the middle of the valley; it meant that Han was almost done with "lunch", and Deidara got a small break from the endless chain of failures he endured every day. Deidara's arms fell to his sides almost instinctively once he caught a whiff of the aroma in the wind; he figured it wasn't too much trouble to simply stop when he knew he'd be called inside anyway. Quietly, Deidara mulled over what atrocity he would have to eat a few spoonfuls of today; he couldn't even finish a whole bowl of the disgusting slop Han would serve him.

Deidara's hunch to stop was correct; as soon as he turned around he saw that the familiar man in red clothes was waving from the doorway, a ladle in hand. The way Han treated Deidara occasionally reminded him of how his late parents, and at times even his own _brother_ would behave around him. A warm, inviting air always surrounded both of them, as if Deidara's existence alone was enough to make them happy; it was such an odd connection to make. He rolled his eyes from a distance that Han could not see. What business did this man have to try and replace his fallen parents? It was an awkward enough transition to go from looking at him as a forced betrothal to a mentor; Deidara didn't want to start looking at him as a replacement parent after all of the discomfort sharing a bed in that small house had brought him, and undoubtedly Han as well.

Deidara walked back to the house at a brisk pace not only to prevent aggravating his lungs with the cold air if he ran instead, but to give himself some time to purge his mind of any resentful thoughts he had. There was no reason to be anything but grateful to Han; because of him he was alive, undefiled, and allowed to start a career as a Shinobi. Most fifteen-year-old's in his position would not have fared so well; he only needed to think of just one of the nameless corpses he saw in the forests throughout his life to remind himself just how badly he needed to hold his tongue about any of these flippant complaints he might have had.

With the unpleasant thoughts totally disposed from his mind, Deidara picked up his pace until he was back at the house. He hastily opened the door and gave a brief bow to Han as he sat down on a cushion between the table and the hearth. A small bowl of some watery, half-cooked stew was placed before him as well as where Han usually sat. Deidara fought to not retch in front of his gracious master, but the smell wafting from the bowl was almost too putrid to not notice.

"Beets, turnips, carrots, and potatoes in this stew. The winter isn't a kind mistress up in these hills. You might want to consider going hunting with me, Deidara. We can gather a few more greens to throw in the pot while we're out, too," Han said. He removed his mask as he sat down, and began eating his ill-cooked meal.

Deidara took one look at the bowl of vegetables floating around in the liquid, and gave a nod in agreement. He needed to find a way to convince Han to prepare better meals, and adding a bit of flavor might be a good start. As it turned out, "the beets _are_ the seasoning" was not a very sound argument when questioned why there were no other ingredients but water and old vegetables.

Deidara moved the stiff chunks of beets and carrots around in the bowl until Han cleared his throat rather loudly. His gaze shot up to Han, who had already finished his own meal and was fixated on Deidara. He looked somewhat irritated. Deidara then realized that he didn't vocally respond, which must have been taken as an insult.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I think that sounds wonderful. When should we make plans to go, hm?" Deidara asked, his head lowered slightly from the sudden embarrassment.

Han paused for a brief moment before he spoke, "It's fine. We should probably set out in the early dawn tomorrow. Don't want to get frostbitten."

"I agree. Is there anything I can do to help us prepare, hm?" Deidara asked as he weakly attempted to swallow a small mouthful of broth.

"You know how to take up a coat, Deidara?" Han asked.

"Like mending? My mother used to do that, I think..." Deidara said, but only muttered the last part.

"We're going to need the furs to keep warm out there, _especially_ you. You won't need to be doing too much of the heavy lifting, though. Roshi shouldn't be too far from here by now. He can help us out when he gets here," Han said.

Deidara eyed the chest off in the corner of the home. It contained what ever valuables the family that lived here owned before Han and Deidara arrived; though both Han and himself had searched a good amount for any signs of life nearby, it appeared that they had been killed in an unfortunate incident as well. They were probably buried in a shallow grave somewhere unknown, where no one would ever find them. Just as his _own_ family had been, yet their home had been spared that damn red head's blaze.

"Is there anything else you can think of, hm?" Deidara asked after a long moment of silence.

"We'll need to let Roshi know about our trip, so I'll prepare a message for him. I'll have to send it to him somehow," Han said, holding his chin in his hand as he pondered a way to go about such a task.

"How do we make sure only _he_ gets it too, hm? We can't be too careful, right? Those guys could show up at any time, just like you said," Deidara said.

Han scoffed; he sounded almost as if he were laughing when he heard Deidara's words. "I'd like to see them _try_ and get through one mile of these mountains in winter. With those flimsy coats, and that entitled attitude they had, I wouldn't put money on them getting anywhere _close_ to us."

"So what then? Do we just leave a note on the door, hm?" Deidara asked.

"We don't have to be _that_ conspicuous. You should know us by now, Deidara. Roshi and I are a very _unique_ pair of siblings, but we're almost identical in our struggles," Han said.

"Do you two have some sort of secret way to communicate?" Deidara asked, his eyes bright with curiosity.

"It's more of a tracking type of deal. We both can tell where the other is going by the way we mark our path, and only in a way we would understand. When we were younger, the two of us prepared this old system once we... uh... found out what was going to happen to us," Han said with a hint of monotony in the last few words.

"Does this have anything to do with that horse you have that nobody likes, hm?" Deidara asked.

Han choked on his mead as he heard his question. "Who told you about ' _That Horse_ '?"

Deidara jumped, a bit taken back by Han's reaction. "I thought that was supposed to be common knowledge! Isn't that why you live so isolated from everyone else?"

"Not at all. I apologize for the quickness of my reaction, but I was unaware you had been told about my beast," Han said.

"I wasn't told very much if that makes any difference. It's probably best that I stop asking questions about it, isn't it, hm?" Deidara asked quietly. It was hard to mask the fact that he was very much intimidated by Han, whose sheer presence alone could invoke fear in most men by means of a simple glance. It had taken Deidara at least a couple of weeks to overcome his own initial trepidation of this mountain of a man.

"I agree, that would be best. I'll be marking a clear trail for Roshi, and you'll need to make sure the supplies are all accounted for," Han said.

"Like rations and water, hm?" Deidara asked.

"Right. I'll probably get to sharpening a couple of knives and some arrows while the sun is still high. We never can be too over-prepared for a hunt," Han said, his eyes lifted upwards in a way that suggested he was grinning under the hand that covered his face.

"This seems to be really exciting for you, danna~," Deidara said, his gaze quickly shifted over to the hearth. The flames needed to be rekindled soon for the evening, but the embers that remained danced around the charcoal in a pattern that he never would have noticed a few days before when he had first been subjected to such a peculiar feeling. It was also the perfect excuse to spare him an awkward exchange of words, and leave to mind a task that needed his attention.

Deidara got up from the cushion, walked past Han, and stopped at the doorway. "The hearth looks like it needs more wood. Do we need to replenish the supply we collected soon, hm?"

"After the hunt, for sure. No point in doing any extra work before an outing. Now enough with the pupil talk, 'Han' is enough when you address me," he said as he fashioned his mask back onto his face.

"Right. Han, hm," Deidara said as he rushed outside to tend to the newly assigned busy work.

As Deidara began grabbing small logs from a pile Han had gathered from a run through the nearby forest, said man appeared out of the house to gather what Deidara assumed would be some stones that could be sharpened into arrowheads. Han shot him a brief look; it seemed to Deidara he still had something to say.

In a bold moment, Deidara asked, "Is something the matter, hm?"

"Just to finish our little talk, I am excited about being able to hunt again. It'll also be nice to teach a young man the basics of it as well, though I will obviously be the one killing the beast this time," Han said.

"Why? Is that a custom among hunters?" Deidara asked.

" _No_ , it's the opposite actually. The _entire_ reason I decided to hunt was because of how much _weight you've lost_ this month we've spent together," Han said, his voice the pitch of a low growl.

"What? That's not really a big deal, is-" Deidara had absentmindedly traced his hand across his midriff, and was quite shocked to feel a sunken-in gut and a somewhat protruding rib cage not too far above that. The look that must have been on his face was enough to prove Han's point.

"If you're trying to kill yourself by starving to death, I would just force feed you. But you seem happy, so it must be that you're being a typical mountain sprite. Never will complain about the food put in front of them, even if they hate it so much they'd rather not eat at all," Han said as he shrugged.

"So you're worried about me being too weak to kill an animal, hm?" Deidara asked, annoyed at being treated so delicately even in a questionable state.

"We're not hunting squirrels or a fox, Deidara. We're hunting big game this time, with two grown men and a boy to feed we'll need to bring home a stag or a bear to have enough food to last us a couple of weeks," Han said.

"Is this going to tie in to my training somehow, hm?" Deidara asked.

"It'll help teach you how to survive when you're shit out of luck - when only the Earth Mother herself walks with you. With a skillset like this, you'll be able to outlast most enemies through sheer knowledge of the land alone, and anything else is just icing," Han said as he gathered the last few stones he felt were useful.

Without another word, Han went back inside and shut the door behind him with great force. His emotions sometimes confused Deidara; he could never really tell if he cared for him as a valued asset, or if he was merely an unwelcome annoyance that he was forced to bear the burden of. It was an uneasy place to be in; caught in the middle of a hopeful beacon and a doubtful shadow that loomed over him at the same time.

There was enough kindling for the hearth in Deidara's arms to last through the night, so it was time to focus on the preparations that were best attended to indoors. It would be another uncomfortable night, but it could be worth it in the end. Even if there was no long-term goal in sight then, that could change in just an instant.

Deidara personally attested to such a notion; an entire life could be destroyed or created in one fleeting moment. Such was this godless world that he couldn't find it in himself to care about most days.

The evening was, as predicted, rather quiet and uneasy. As most were, and how most would surely be. Deidara worked on mending the fur coats with the best stitching he could achieve, which admittedly was rough and unpolished. It got the job done, however, and it was good enough for a trip through a mountain forest in the early winter. The canteens had been filled with some of the awful slop from that afternoon, and there were some water purifying tablets that Han had from his time in the Stone Village set aside for when a meal was served. Their assumption of Roshi's arrival was timed to complement the desired schedule, and all was taken care of for their departure next dawn.

 **-and-and-and-and-and-**

When Deidara woke from a troubled sleep he found that the sun had barely crept over the mountains off in the horizon. The stars still flickered about ever-so-slightly, while clouds playfully teased the arrival of a bright blue sky in the following hours. It would be another bitterly cold morning, but it looked as though the clouds were dispersed enough that the sunlight would go uninterrupted for a lengthy period of time. Deidara figured it couldn't be bad to have a little extra visibility to hunt large game, but he didn't know for sure.

Deidara took it upon himself to carry the bags of supplies to the door while Han had only begun to stir. It was a remarkably chilly morning for the early winter, even for a mountainous region. Deidara felt every inch of his forearms and calves _covered_ in goosebumps from the rush of the frosty air hitting his body as he stood. Quickly, he covered up in the smaller coat he had taken up last evening; even the warm furs of a long-dead mink weren't enough to completely protect himself from the cold.

Deidara tucked his arms into the coat to keep bundled up as he waited for Han, and quietly gazed out the window to watch the sun rise to give his teacher a chance to wake up peacefully. There was almost nothing Deidara found more unpleasant than to deal with an agitated Han for an entire day, and he certainly wasn't going to risk anything on a day spent in total isolation with lethal weapons in abundance.

"Are you almost ready, Sundrop?" Han said from behind Deidara. He slipped on his coat properly and picked up the smaller bag along with the bow and arrows as his response.

He didn't feel too talkative in the mornings, but that didn't seem to upset his mentor too much. He was a man of few words himself, with a flair for long silences and brief conversations. It would be a quiet hunt, and Deidara knew better than to try to make it anything else. The duo locked the door to the house behind them as they departed into the valley, and soon to the forests in the mountains north of their small residence.

Han took great care to mark the land they traversed in an oddly specific manner; either with an occasional snap of a branch or an etching with a knife on a tree trunk in some kanji that Deidara could not read. It seemed that the two men did, in fact, have a method of tracking each other. It wasn't too great a risk for a well-prepared hunter to be out here in the wilds under normal circumstances, but the excessive precautions taken for their unusual circumstance were essential to Han and Deidara's survival.

Han had just finished marking another random tree on their path when he stopped abruptly; the air around him was tense, still, and intimidating. Deidara hesitantly stood off to the side, several feet away from the much older man. He gripped the bow and an arrow just in case he had to assist Han fight off a big game, or something much more deadly.

"What's wrong, hm? Is someone nearby?" Deidara asked quietly as not to alert anyone or anything else of their presence.

Han paused briefly, then said, "It's weird. It almost felt like someone was right behind us, but there isn't any sign of life anymore. They'll be getting a taste of my boil release if they turn out to be real, though. Let's keep going, we'll probably run into a deer soon."

Deidara kept his hand hovered over the bow at his side just in case, but continued onward in silence with Han until the terrain began to grow more uneven as they ascended the mountain chosen by his mentor. A soft moan or a light gasp escaped Deidara's lips here and there as he struggled to keep his pace with the now almost-jagged rocks he was forced to endure.

Han looked visibly irritated with him, but kept his words to himself. It wouldn't do any good to reprimand him here; it would have to wait for when they were back home - hopefully in one piece. It was obvious that Deidara's weak body was a detriment to the more advanced part of the hunt, so Han held his arm out to stop his pupil from progressing any further up the mountain.

"Ah... what's... what's wrong, hm?" Deidara said, gasping for air.

Han sighed to himself; this boy was so remarkably out-of-shape for a mountain sprite that he wondered if he was simply carried everywhere for half of his life. The way he trained and fought was so pitiful that it gave him the impression that his feet never touched the ground, and most _certainly_ not without a pair of fur slippers on his faerie-sized feet. He could never have brought himself to tell Deidara such cruel things, but it was true. So _unfortunately_ true - so _painfully_ \- that Han made the decision in silence to not inform Deidara of his position as a meat shield when the black-cloaked men would come again to try and collect him.

"Sundrop, stay here. I'm going further myself, make sure you don't die," Han said.

"Wait... wait, aren't I supposed to stay by you in case of an attack, hm?" Deidara asked, his breathing slowly returning to normal.

"You're not fit enough to climb. Stay. No one is following us anyway," Han said as he walked away from Deidara; further up the mountain full of rough terrain that Deidara could barely make it through.

So there Deidara stood, dumbfounded, somewhat lost, and rather irritated. Han was already almost out of his immediate vision, so he figured he must have sensed some creature nearby - or whatever that old man could do to detect another living being around them. It was useless to wander off in these mountains; Deidara could never find his way down, or never _be found_ if he chose to explore.

The terrain he was on was steep and rigid; it didn't bode well for a fool to simply rush around in this sort of wilderness. Even a flying creature would meet resistance if they chose to come this high due to the air pressure. For a person hopelessly combing through the woods, however, that resistance would be almost impossible to overcome. This rang especially true for Deidara, who was a svelte fifteen-year-old boy with no previous training to physically endure even the slightest hardship. That was probably an oversight on his family's part; a shame they had to die before they could teach him anything themselves.

The more Deidara thought of the mortality of his family and himself, the more the idea of leaving his life up to the Earth Mother seemed to run through his mind. It wasn't really the worst way to go if it did happen; he would be asleep for a lot of the unpleasant parts, and that was assuming he was unlucky in his journey home. It sounded like a perfectly fine gamble to make with what was rightfully his.

A bold step forward, then another. Soon it became as easy as breathing, like a casual mosey through insanity had been a part of his life since he was a small baby. It really wasn't too far from the truth when Deidara thought about it; his life never had been entirely placid. Even when his family was still there, his mother would frantically drone on about a "day of reckoning" when men would come to kill them all. She was sadly correct, aside from the part where they killed all of them.

Regardless of his acceptance of the inevitability of death, he knew to run downward if he wasn't quite ready to die just yet. Deidara breezed down the mountainside before he knew it, but he wasn't in a familiar spot where he emerged from the thicket of trees. It wasn't any matter; he could just make a circle to his home from here if he pushed through the day.

A wind howled as Deidara trudged through the snow that was a fair bit deeper than his home valley. It felt as if it were a barricade of its own; perfectly designed to keep him off course and unable to progress any further. Deidara could make out many yards before him quite clearly due to the lack of flurry that usually accompanied the winds in the north, but nothing he did could overcome the force the chilled gusts brought down on him. If he kept at this for too long he would end up buried in the snow, so he had to think of a different strategy before he was toppled over.

As exhausted as he was Deidara forced his body to veer off to the left in a strong, jerking movement. He stumbled and tripped over his own feet as he attempted to find his balance, then fell flat on his face in one final movement in complete deprivation of grace. His gloved hands were sore from the sub-zero snow on the ground as he caught his fall, and his shoulders began trembling from the same frozen temperature all around him in the air. He needed to find a way to keep his body warm; just for a moment or two, and then he would be okay until he arrived home.

 _Wherever that may be_ , the thought danced around in Deidara's mind as he hopelessly looked around for any sign of relief from the current. There wasn't anything there for him anywhere; he didn't need to think much about it to fully grasp that as a fact. There were no loving arms waiting for him by a hearth, their eyes warm and filled with endless love for him. It was such a somber fact to realize that no one in this entire world waited for him to return to them.

As the seemingly-endless current battered Deidara and the snow that was kicked up by the wind dusted his back, he felt his entire body stop. Not of sickness or cold, but will. His desire to even take another step forward or keep his eyes open evaporated from his body with the last warm breath he exhaled, and as he fell to his knees he completely relinquished any spare thought he had to give to the idea of returning to a home that didn't really exist.

 **-and-and-and-and-and-**

 _Why was it so warm?_

Deidara's eyes slowly opened to see utter darkness; he was definitely no longer outside in the snow, but he didn't exactly know where he was at the moment either. It was warm - almost comforting - the air the place he laid in had; it certainly suited him just fine. Deidara was already over this winter, and it had barely even begun.

His coat was removed from him, but the rest of his outfit was intact. His hair was not a mess and there was no sign of blood or injury, so he probably wasn't taken advantage of while he was out. The coat he once wore was being used as his pillow to support his head; it seemed to be placed there delicately. It didn't concern Deidara; anything that could have possibly killed him wasn't exactly unwelcome right now.

There was a soft thud somewhere close by; within moments Deidara heard gentle footsteps come closer to where he lay. Before any more time had passed a dark-haired man stood above him with an almost serene look on his face. He sensed no hostility from this strange man, so Deidara decided to engage in a conversation with him in order to thank his savior.

Before Deidara could speak, the man said, "Hi there. I'm glad you're finally awake. Hopefully you're not too scared - there's nothing to fear here. This room is safe, no monsters can get in here."

"Who are you, hm? Where are we, and what are your intentions?" Deidara asked in an uncharacteristically strong voice. It seemed though his Jutsu training had been a failure, his personal training to come off as more intimidating than he actually was had worked to some extent.

"My name..." the man trailed off for a brief moment, almost lost in thought. "You know what, you can call me whatever you want."

Deidara could find no words to reply to such a bold statement, so he merely asked, "Where are we then, hm?"

"Somewhere else, far away from that nasty snowstorm for the time being," the man said.

"What are you going to do with me, hm?" Deidara asked.

"I'll admit I had been watching you two for a little while. Once that monster deserted you I took it upon myself to rescue you, as any prince would do," the man said as he heaved his shoulders. He seemed rather proud of himself from the way he boastfully touted his deeds; an act that only served to pique Deidara's interest further.

"You're a _real_ prince? You came to take me away to a _castle_ somewhere, hm?" Deidara asked, his words drenched in sarcasm.

"I was thinking more along the lines of one of the Kage's manors," the man said with a chuckle, playing along.

"Oh, what? You're going to go siege one of the Kage's manors and just announce yourself his successor, hm? I'd like to see you try that!" Deidara said as he had a small bout of laughter from the stupidity of this man's words.

"Yes, actually. Would you like to be there when I do it?" he asked.

"...I'm sorry if I misled you, but I'm actually on good terms with the Tsuchikage. You're probably not serious about that, right, hm?" Deidara asked after a brief pause from shock.

"He sure doesn't seem to like you, you sure you're on 'good terms'?" the man asked.

Deidara huffed in frustration; he didn't like to have to admit the truth. Onoki never liked him, and neither did most adults in that manor. Only Kurotsuchi and Akatsuchi even bothered to regularly interact with him, and they were discouraged from it most days even if they seldom listened. It felt so odd that an ensemble of adults seemed to harbor a hatred exclusively for him; his family had never given him the impression that he put others off, so he could never figure out why he was so despised by the Tsuchikage.

"Why else would he try to kill you?" the man said, his words sweet despite their morbidity.

" _Kill me_?" Deidara cried out loud, agitated by the words this man tossed around so casually.

"But here you are: alive and well. So much for that plan of his, I guess. I kept telling him he was getting greedy, but the old bastard wanted it both ways like usual," the man said without a hint of concern in his voice.

"So what you're telling me is that the Third Tsuchikage specifically ordered you to kill me, and that's why I'm here now, hm?" Deidara asked.

"Nah, we failed that mission a month ago. Sorry. We were mostly interested in your husband, actually," he said.

Deidara cringed at the word "husband", but kept his distaste to himself. He cleared his throat and said, "Did you take me as a hostage then, hm?"

"My little group and I can _absolutely_ be bought, sunshine. We're not even on a tight schedule right now, so you're _really_ lucky. Just tell me what you want, and it's your's," the man said, his hand outstretched to help Deidara up from where he sat.

Deidara hesitantly took the man's hand and found himself with his head pressed firmly against his chest. His face was red from embarrassment, but he managed to say, "I don't really consider him my husband. I guess I haven't got anything that I can think of off the top of my head."

"Hey, no worries. You'll think of something. For now, my sunshine should just be escorted home," the man said.

"So you've got a pet name for me now, hm?" Deidara said with a groan.

"Only if your prince may call you that, my sunshine," he said, a cheeky grin on his face.

Deidara's face grew hot, "My prince may call me that."

"Excellent. Just so my sunshine is clear, you will need to _at least_ let us take him without a fuss when the time is right. If you don't, _we will kill you_ ," his prince said.

Deidara froze, unable to say anything in response to such a horrifying twist of his prince's voice. When he talked about death, killing, and sabotage, Deidara felt so oddly _excited_. It was as eerie and sickening as the touch of his prince's hand when he held it. It was cold, clammy, and rough in such an unpleasant way. The most terrifying part about that feeling was that Deidara could almost feel that sickness festering inside his own gut, as well.

"Until then, my sunshine," his prince said.

Before Deidara could say anything in response his prince was gone, as was the dark room he had been in. He looked around and noticed he was back in his valley, placed meticulously in front of the door to his house. Whatever happened to him just now was not believable in the slightest, and hopefully it was just some awful fever dream. The nauseating feeling inside of him wasn't going away; he figured it couldn't hurt to sit with it for a while.

There were two red figures off in the distance that came from the direction the mountain forest was in. Deidara knew the taller one to be Han, and the one with the darker skin must have been Roshi. They took notice of Deidara and darted the rest of the way to the home in an almost frantic manner. When Han got close enough to his student he caught him off guard and embraced him in a hug, which was something Deidara didn't think Han knew how to do.

Han and Roshi continued on talking for a good while; Han expressed his relief that he didn't send his pupil off to his death, while Roshi introduced himself to the unusually silent boy. There Deidara stood; his dream had finally come true, but five minutes too late. There was something else that he could get from Han now, and if anything Han said about his brother was correct he could possibly take the same from Roshi as well.

Through the happy moment that happened outside of his skull, Deidara only thought of how he could benefit from giving these two men away to some group who had no qualms with murdering a child, let alone a full-grown man. If he had been told this scenario not long ago he would have been shocked and deeply disturbed by the actions of someone who was supposed to be him. Someone who he thought was demure, passive, and easily dragged through life by others.

Yet the only thing that shocked Deidara as he stood amongst the people that were so happy to see him was how easy it was to destroy a life, and that _he_ could be the one to destroy something as precious as a life in seconds _of his own free will_. Maybe one day he could even directly act as the harbinger of death for the ephemeral beauty of another's precious life.

 **-and-and-and-and-and-**


	4. Of All the Things He Said

_The stains of red splattered on the white marble, the tears that ran down his cheeks, and the looks of shock and despair on the faces of the loved ones whose lives he had sold to a false prince._

 _Deidara looked up to the dark sky as he tried to rid his mind of the moments that plagued his nightmares. He wondered if they would ever let him be; living was exhausting enough as it was. Let him pretend to have a peaceful life when he slept, and to not wake in the middle of the night with his eyes stinging from the tears he shed in his sleep._

 _The memories of the people he hurt were not as easily burned away as their physical bodies had been._

The stars were still out in the night sky as Deidara hesitantly rose from his bed. Roshi had been sleeping in their home for about an entire month now, and Han had taken the liberty of building Deidara a bed that was separate from the two older men. Once Roshi had been informed about their true "marriage", he immediately suggested that this should be done to avoid any unwanted complications as Deidara aged - or at least until either of the two found a partner they actually desired to be with.

It had been _three months_. Three months of extended visits from his brother-in-law, Roshi. Three months of quietly nodding along to every life skill Han taught him, making his best effort to not break from a chagrined smile despite the turmoil inside of him. Three months of utter emptiness in a hollow mountain valley, covered in a white blanket of snow that had only _just_ begun to wane. Three months of an absolute standstill with the cloaked men's unknown arrival, and _three entire damned months_ had been _wasted_ \- with less than ten lessons given to Deidara to hone a Kekkei Genkai he hadn't the _slightest_ grasp on.

In the throes of his frustration, Deidara found that he could not stay asleep for very long these days. His Prince had yet to make a reappearance; it would have been a welcome change from the expected house guests. Between the red-haired man who set his old home ablaze, and the inevitable men who would come to gather Han at an undetermined point in time, a prince who could disappear in an instant sounded all-too-perfect as Deidara humored the thought in his mind.

He wondered if His Prince had anything to do with this remarkably long wait time. In an odd way, Deidara was technically working with this man to kill his husband. Maybe, being the benevolent prince he was, he allowed Deidara a little bit more time to enjoy the sham marriage. It wasn't a hard life - just incredibly mundane and uninspiring. He imagined that an easy existence wouldn't be likely in the near future after he was widowed at the antiquated age of fifteen. There might even be a possibility that he would need to run away from the village, though he couldn't rationalize _why_ he needed to do that if he hadn't hurt anyone directly.

In the wee hours of the dawn, Deidara shuffled out of his warm bed to face the daily tasks he minded for the stronger residents of the home. It saved them a good bit of trouble to not have to do any of the housework, and focus on the jobs that needed to be done which required heavy lifting. Deidara's weight had barely improved even after the regular meals of venison and game birds caught by Han, so he still wasn't at an acceptable level of strength in his teacher's eyes to take on the role of a hunter just yet. Just so, since Deidara didn't mind the privilege of tending to the easiest tasks while everyone else did all of the laborious work.

The outside was dark, but not as cold as it had been in the dead of winter. Soon enough spring would come in full to the valley, and with it a slew of new tasks that Han had thought up for Deidara. As he glanced up from where he gathered the wood for the hearth, the chicken coop and stable Han and Roshi had almost finished reminded him of _just_ that. Deidara couldn't quite bring himself to mention that he had almost no experience in animal care, and didn't know how competent he would be at raising livestock. It probably wouldn't do him much good anyway seeing as Han had been quite adamant that Deidara was given this gift, and all of the work that entailed.

Deidara quickly gathered the most wood he could carry in his arms, as the bite of the cold morning winds were too much for him to handle for long periods of time. He hoped that the ice would melt soon this year - the sooner that the northern mountains became more accessible, the sooner Deidara would get his answers for the cloaked men and His Prince's plans for Han. Even though he didn't pay it much heed, Deidara occasionally wondered if they had any plans for him as well. After all, he didn't exactly know what would become of him after Han was taken away. It would be nice to know if he had a safety net; with His Prince, at the very least.

Thump, _thump_. Deidara put in a great effort to not wake Han and Roshi while he rekindled the hearth, which caused the logs to make a dull noise as he delicately dropped them into the weak fire. He fanned them a bit to make the flames engulf the new wood brought for it to devour, and to provide them with some semblance of warmth in this cold early spring morning. It didn't matter if Deidara's hands were caught in the flames - nothing like that could kill him; it only _made sense_ that he was tasked with the duties that involved dealing with extreme heat.

Deidara quietly sighed as he took the broom and dustpan from the corner of the kitchen and began to sweep up any traces of filth or grime that entered in the night. The noise of the scraping on the hardwood was usually what woke up Han, as it meant breakfast would soon be prepared. Deidara _could_ certainly cook, that much was true, but Han seldom allowed it. Whether it was due to a desire to improve as a chef, or simply because he didn't want to make Deidara feel as if he were a domestic servant, Han vehemently insisted that he would be the primary food provider and cook.

It wasn't long until Han stirred from his sleep, and Roshi woke up mere seconds after him. Deidara flashed them a warm smile; he felt a sense of satisfaction in taking care of the home he shared with the two brothers. Roshi gave a loud yawn and stretched with a decent amount of energy for someone who slept like a log through the night. Han cracked his back and arms as he straightened out; he was usually far less talkative in the mornings. Roshi being there was a blessing; if it weren't for his brother who served as a form of comfort for Han, Deidara would almost never have been able to get more than a few sentences out of him.

In his naturally booming voice, Roshi said "Good morning, Sundrop. Up with the stars again, were you?"

"Morning to you too. You know me by now, I can't sleep a wink unless it's under five-below," Deidara said as he grabbed some clay plates he had crafted for the kitchen and set them on the table while the two talked.

Han placed a large pot on a rack above the hearth, then dumped a pitcher of sterilized water and a slew of preserved vegetables into the old cookware. The stocks of vegetables were low - only carrots and a few potatoes were even edible any longer. Thankfully spring was not too far off, and neither was the Stone Village if they got desperate enough for new crops.

"Venison gonna be good for you?" Han asked with a grunt.

"Yeah, that'll be perfect. You two sleep okay, hm?" Deidara asked.

"Oh, like a couple of babies, Sundrop. That old horse snores like a damn earthquake!" Roshi said with a laugh.

Han looked shocked, but kept his composure and said, "I slept fine, _Deidara_. Your brother-in-law over here talks like he doesn't do the same thing himself, don't pay him any attention."

Deidara chuckled, "Alright, alright. I definitely get the picture."

After the preparations for breakfast had been completed, Deidara took the liberty of resting in a zaisu for a little while. He was always a bit tired, and never really able to catch up on sleep. It wasn't his personal choice; the thought of what was to come was too much to bear in his mind. It kept him up at night, and if he did manage to sleep Deidara was often met with the face of His Prince or being engulfed in flames all over again. Though he couldn't quite put a finger on it, something about His Prince shook him to his very core. " _This was a bad_ _man_ ," his gut said, yet his mind had been set on him ever since.

A loud tapping noise on the window pane broke Deidara out of his reverie. It wasn't long before Roshi had opened the window to look outside for whatever was responsible for the disruption of their quiet morning. Han stood in front of Deidara, his posture tensed from the sudden shift in the atmosphere of the home. Roshi stuck the entirety of his torso out the window; a few moments passed where he shuffled around for any clue, he let out a laugh. He pulled back inside with a letter in his hand and a look of relief on his face. Without any exchange of words, he handed the parchment to Han.

Han opened the envelope and examined it, then laughed a little as well. Deidara looked at the two men, puzzled by the peculiar glee they took in what the letter said. As illiterate as ever, Deidara had to wait for Han to explain what was so funny about the mail they received.

"Looks like the old man wants to hold court, Sundrop. We've apparently been invited to some kind of formal event," Han said.

"When are you going to teach that boy to read by his own damn self?" Roshi said with a groan.

Han pretended not to hear his brother, and said, "We'll need to get fitted for some formal wear if we choose to go."

"Makes me wonder why dad's letting us back in the city all of a sudden," Roshi said under his breath.

"I didn't see anything about you in there, Roshi. This might all be about the kid over here. We didn't really get a proper ' _reception_ ', after all," Han said with a heavy sigh.

"Are we going to go to the Stone Village, hm?" Deidara asked.

Han scoffed as he tossed the letter on to the table, then said, "With this snow? Don't be a damn fool, Sundrop. We're staying put for now - all three of us."

"But why?" Deidara asked, somewhat disappointed.

"We're safe here, that's why. Why tempt fate when we have the Mother's greatest fortress all around us right where we are?" Roshi said.

"Not to mention that this could be a trap," Han said, to which Roshi nodded.

"You can never be too careful with these things, Sundrop. You'll be thanking us when you're eighty years old, your brood of children and grandchildren sitting around you, telling them about all the adventures you went on where you _didn't_ die," Roshi said.

Deidara briefly remained silent until he said, "Why would they want us in such a public place if they were going to capture Han, hm?"

Han clenched the edge of the table he had been leaning on tightly; he didn't want to snap at Deidara. He knew he was right, at least in a logical way. You could spend hours agonizing over the correct decision here, and he didn't want to start with this bullshit so early in the morning.

"If you think we're sitting ducks here, then how do you propose we get to the Stone Village? They didn't send us the letter in your narrative, right, Sundrop? Then they don't know we're all here. What's the point in leaving?" Han asked in a harsh voice that challenged Deidara to complete his thought process.

"Wouldn't shifting our location around be a good thing? Besides, even if there isn't really a ' _recepitation_ ' or whatever you said, we can still buy some supplies and vegetables. Doesn't that justify the trip, hm?" Deidara said.

"Well, yes, but-"

"Can't we go then? Please, hm? It's only for one day!" Deidara said abruptly, which cut off Roshi. There was a visible look of irritation from Deidara's brashness on Han's face, and a glare towards him that demanded he apologized to his brother-in-law.

"Oh... I'm sorry, Roshi. That was very rude of me, please forgive me," Deidara said as he bowed in deference.

"I've forgotten what it's like to be fifteen..." Roshi muttered.

"So you're bored. Is that what you're trying to tell us, Sundrop?" Han asked.

Deidara's eye darted off to the corner of the kitchen; he didn't want to upset the men that had taken such care of him, and kept him safe during a time he would not have survived if left alone. It took a great deal of grit to unclench his jaw to speak, but he knew he would go completely mad if he were to stay here for months to come without a break.

"Y-Yeah, I'm sorta in the mood for something different. A change of routine, you know, hm?" Deidara said.

Han looked to his brother, as if he expected an answer. Both men were uneasy about giving in to a teenager's demands, but it was just as true for them as it was for Deidara: They grew weary of the day-to-day. This might be the perfect opportunity to escape the doldrums of their secluded home - if only for one night.

After a long silence, Han finally said, "Alright, fine. We all clearly are getting a bit of cabin fever, and we'll need supplies anyway. Grab your coat, Sundrop."

Deidara was taken aback by the spontaneity of Han's decision, which was evident by the way he stuttered like a fool before he hustled off to grab his coat near the front door. Han followed at a slower pace, as did Roshi. The whole thing seemed surreal to Deidara, but every glance backward told him that he was really leaving home.

Before Han locked up the door, he motioned for Deidara to come to his side. He gestured to the inside of the home, and asked "Is there anything you want to take with you on the trip? For emotional support, that is. You never know what could happen out there."

Deidara shook his head and said, "No thanks, I'm good with what I have."

Han locked the latch on the door, and gave the wood a solid smack. "There we go, all set. Let's be off."

 **-and-and-and-and-and-**

 _He was a quiet man, and not one for a fit of passionate, unrelenting rage._

 _However, he saw it fit to murder the man at the end of this uncomfortably long hallway._

Sasori couldn't be arsed to wait patiently in his own home any longer; this needed to be addressed _now_. First, it was the random ghosting. Then came his _oh-so-beloved_ boyfriends of make-believe, and the countless hours Sasori wished for regular eyeballs to roll as his partner droned on, and _on_ , _and on_ about the various things he was going to do with a teenager's special eyeballs.

 _"Just shove them up your ass,"_ Sasori wished he had said such a thing, or anything at all for that matter. Serves him right to try and be nice, and happily nod along to that deranged psychopath's monologue.

Sasori gave a loud, brief knock on the door. He folded his arms, and attempted to be as intimidating as a man who barely broke five feet with cartoonishly-red hair could possibly be. The moment that Orochimaru opened that door, any likeness to a cherub would be swiftly replaced by Sasori's venomous gaze and diatribe. As much as he hated to wait, he was a remarkably patient man; it had to be worth some serious time, effort, and occasionally money to make him this visibly upset at a single person.

The door creaked open, to which Sasori braced himself to unload the tongue lashing of a lifetime. What his partner did was unforgivable, and made him look guilty just by association. Insults, curses, so many words available to him, yet the only word that came to his mind was _filthy_. That was what he thought of him right now; he was little more than the mud beneath his shoes to him.

Orochimaru slid out of the door, not entirely emerged from whatever he had occupied himself within that room. His expression turned sour at the sight of his enraged partner, but politely said, "Hello Sasori. I don't suppose you're here to throw yourself at my bedside and be my doting nurse while I'm _so_ gravely wounded."

" _No_ , _I'm not_ ," Sasori said with a low growl.

"Then you were made aware about what happened, and not the fact that I suffered _horrible_ injuries? That sounds like some one-sided favoritism to me," Orochimaru said.

"Well, you should have known how little we needed you! You basically brute-forced yourself into Akatsuki, and now that you've screwed up beyond repair _I'm the one who has to do the damage control_!" Sasori snapped.

"Oh, Sasori, you don't have to go to such lengths," Orochimaru said, his voice softened.

"Oh? You think I'm trying to cover your ass in this? You must hold me in pretty low regard if you think I'm going to come to your rescue," Sasori said.

Orochimaru remained quiet. There was no use explaining things to his partner when he got into this state, or even saying anything. Knowing Sasori, he had already prepared a speech for this moment. He was just going off of his script, and the most Orochimaru could do in his weakened state was let him finish.

"I'm only trying to make sure eight absolute _nightmares_ don't come after _me_! I'm content with my already-limited peace, thank you very much!" Sasori said, his voice raised with every word he spoke.

"Listen, I never liked you. I never cared about you, and thanks to your little stunt, _I hate you_. But being the _patron saint_ of this little group, I'm just kindly giving you a heads up: You're now our enemy, and the next time I - or anyone really - catches sight of you, you will be killed. I want that ring back, too!" Sasori said so loudly that his voice echoed through the empty halls.

Orochimaru remained silent for a moment to make sure Sasori was finished, then said, "I don't have it. Itachi destroyed it along with my hand. I wish you the best of luck in your endeavors."

The door slammed shut, and Sasori was left alone in the dark hall. He was shaken, still enraged, but he didn't genuinely care about the ring. That was something he remembered to ask at the last moment on behalf of two of the senior members, and he expected such a half-hearted answer from him. His quick-footed pacing down the hall, and back up the stairs from which he came was given great care to be as loud as he could make it. He didn't want Orochimaru to get one minute of rest as long as he was still there; it was a petty act, but it was what worked for him when he needed that last dig to soothe his anger. Petty worked for him; it suited him just fine to behave in such a childish way when going against people he never desired the respect of.

As Sasori walked back on to the surface, he hastily sidestepped away from the hole in the ground. When he turned around he was face-to-face with his beloved spy, Kabuto Yakushi, who had promptly shown up to help his master. Ever the dutiful little servant, Kabuto wasted no words before he knelt in front of Sasori. Utter obedience - Sasori's personal favorite trait in those he surrounded himself with.

"I assume everything went as expected," Kabuto said, his gaze focused on the ground.

"Worse, actually. He says the ring was destroyed, which I don't buy for a minute," Sasori said as he looked around for any signs of eavesdroppers.

Kabuto took notice of Sasori's trepidation and said, "Don't worry, Master Sasori. There isn't anyone following you. They still trust you, at least for now."

Sasori groaned, for Kabuto was absolutely right. While he was somewhat safe for the time being, there was the elephant in the room that Sasori was now officially operating solo. He would need a new partner, and the only one who tended to be in a constant state of "single" was Kakuzu. Sasori wasn't exactly in the mood to wake each morning to parts of his collection lifted, or worse: _himself_ being sold off as some weird form of sex toy. _It was absolutely out of the question_ , he thought. There would be no point in putting two tired, angry, old men together to argue until one sets the other ablaze.

Sasori bent ever-so-slightly down to Kabuto, and said, "I want you to help find me a partner. Go find me someone strong enough to be approved by our leader, but nice and obedient. Someone who will not be too much trouble to handle, and easy to control. Understood?"

The sweetness dripping from Sasori's words meant that he was genuinely desperate. Kabuto knew he could find someone extremely powerful with little effort; just down those steps led to a prison cell that ought to contain at least one man worthy enough. But as usual, Sasori was demanding in his requests. Someone powerful, yet obedient, and easily controlled wasn't a very realistic partner for one as _small_ as Sasori was. That was unless Sasori was willing to task himself with rearing a _child_ to meet these criteria. It didn't have to be a newborn; a fresh-out-of-the-academy Genin would suffice, so long as Sasori was able to keep his nastier side in check.

Even though his odds were infinitesimal, Kabuto nodded and said, "Understood, Master Sasori. I'll find a partner suitable for you, though it may take a bit of time to find the perfect candidate."

"You have six months. I'm being _really_ generous here, so you better not test your luck anymore," Sasori said, his venomous tongue back in full-force.

With that, Kabuto vanished into the woods. Sasori reached into his coat pocket and felt around for _that_ little slip of paper; if he could have sighed, he would have when he discovered it was still there. After all of this time, _it was still here_.

 _After all of this time, he was still here._

 **-and-and-and-and-and-**

 _Pink, or blue? No, definitely blue._

The journey to the Stone Village had been a rather quick one, once the two older men came to the decision to simply scoop up Deidara and dart through the dark woods for roughly an hour. When the three had arrived at the edge of the village, the sight of a giggling Deidara kicking his legs about in Han's arms must have sent the wrong message to the guards who greeted them. Within the next hour, they were given a rather handsome amount of money to be spent on formal attire, as well as a few dirty looks from Onoki for the brief moment he had stepped out to greet his two sons.

Deidara grabbed the two blue ribbons in Han's left hand and set them on the counter for the woman to ring up for them. The shop clerk looked in befuddlement at the unique pair as they browsed for an outfit that wasn't too ill-fitting for Deidara, and a suit in a modest, muted shade for Han. To the young woman, it looked as if her village had gone to pot with the bafflingly low standards that it had sunken to. A man who paraded a young bride around in such an egregious fashion!

As Deidara gently placed a gown he could live with being seen wearing in public on to the counter, the woman silently made plans to renounce her citizenship, and promptly defect to a southern country - perhaps one with some semblance of decorum.

After Han laid his own selected dress robes on the counter, he said, "You're sure you won't be too cold in that, Sundrop? Those are spring robes, and it's not going to be too warm tonight."

Deidara nodded, and said, "I'll be fine, this feels like a summer afternoon compared to what we've been going through at home. Now, the buttons on this gown when it has such flowing sleeves was... ah, well, it was certainly a _choice_ , hm?"

"We'll be purchasing these," Han told the clerk, then placed a fairly large amount of Ryo on the counter.

The woman hastily rung them up, as she wanted them out of her store as quickly as possible. Her eyes darted up to Han and shot him a glare from time to time, but he was thoroughly used to the treatment he received by villagers at this point. Deidara, however, stuck his tongue out at her whenever she looked back down. The woman handed Han the bag that contained his purchases, and immediately rushed to the back of the store. Han sighed, then took Deidara by the wrist and led him out of the store; all while Deidara gave the woman one last rude gesture with his hand.

The couple arrived at the dance hall a few minutes later; the distance the two walked was short, so that left both of them plenty of energy for the rest of the evening. All the better for Deidara, whose excitement was almost uncontainable over the prospect of attending such a frivolous party. Even the guards stationed by the doors eyed him with bemusement as he bounced to and fro. Han excused himself to change in a different room, which left Deidara alone to prepare.

As Deidara began the arduous process of fastening on his chosen dress robes, he wondered what his family would have said if they saw him now. Would his mother have beamed with pride, while his father begrudgingly told him that he looked great? Would his brother have given a silent smile, ever the doting protector of his beloved sibling?

Deidara shook his head furiously, and clasped the final button on the dress with a firm press of his fingers. It didn't need to be dwelled on any longer; he had a new family to care about. He could not waste his entire life in mourning of those who had died. When the tiny voice in Deidara's mind echoed the fact that he had gleefully sold his new "family's" lives to a new piece of arm candy - one who never even gave him his _name_ \- he pushed the alarming thought back into the recesses of his mind. It was time to say adieu to the discomfort of morals and matters of the heart; tonight, he only thought of the dances and joy that awaited him.

Han knocked on the door, and said, "Listen Sundrop, would it be too much to ask that you put on some gloves and a fur? It'll put me at ease to know you're warm."

Deidara opened the door, and said, "That's fine, just give them to me and I'll put them on."

Han handed Deidara a bundle of clothing, which was probably something he had picked up in one of the spare rooms here. The gloves were form-fitting, and the fur was more of a shawl on his shoulders, but it went well with his robes in an odd way. Deidara slipped on some shoes, and looked to Han for a sign of approval.

Han looked him over, and said, "Your hair is still a mess. It needs to be fixed."

"Oh... yeah, it does need a good brush, doesn't it, hm?" Deidara said, his face flushed from the embarrassing realization.

Han silently began to detangle Deidara's hair, then weaved two braids that he tied up with the blue ribbons. After Han pinned them into place, Deidara looked himself over in the mirror. He smiled, impressed that Han was so talented with hair.

"It looks great, thanks. I didn't know you were so skilled with hair," Deidara said.

"I took a few lessons from a good friend of mine. She took pity on me when she saw that I had no life skills, but I'm surprised I can still braid so well after all this time," Han said with a grunt.

"A friend? Will I meet her one day, hm?" Deidara asked.

"Probably not, she's been in hiding for a while," Han said, then looked away from Deidara.

There was a short silence that followed until Deidara cleared his throat, then said, "Either way, we should meet up with the rest of the party. You look pretty handsome in that getup, by the way."

"Thank you, Sundrop. It's a damn shame we have to waste this evening looking so good when we won't be able to attract anyone we'd actually want to dance with," Han said.

"Playing the happy couple sure does put a damper on things, hm?" Deidara said, his voice slightly shaken.

"Yes, but sadly we have to keep up the charade. Onoki wanted me to be tied down for whatever reason, and if he wants something it's usually only a matter of time until he gets it," Han said.

Deidara winced at Han's words, only for the fact that it reminded him of His Prince's words. He said that Onoki wanted to kill him. _Him_ , a poor boy from a valley in the mountains; a mere boy with nothing to offer but a love for working with clay. The more Deidara mulled over that, the less it made sense to him. Though the resurgence of those unpleasant thoughts had seeped into his brain, when Han held out his hand for Deidara to take he forced himself to smile in an almost chagrined, yet loving manner.

"Let's be off. We'll probably have all eyes on us tonight, hm?" Deidara said nervously.

Han threw his head back and squeezed his eyes shut, then said, "Oh, by the Gods, you're completely right!"

Han led Deidara out through the hallway, each side paired with a few guards that kept a very close eye on the two as they slowly made their way into the main room for the event. They were a bit early, but since they were the guests of honor at this party Han had insisted that they arrive rather early. Even Roshi hadn't caught up with the two quite yet, the said man-in-question had decided to take a large chunk of time for himself to rest at a nearby hostel - as well as skip the party. Deidara figured by Han and Roshi's reactions to being around large groups of people that this wasn't something they would have chosen to attend if Deidara wasn't a factor they had to consider.

The dance hall was almost entirely wood-paneled, and the afternoon sun brightened up the room by giving every stone statue a soft glow. To Deidara, the room was one of the most beautiful places he had ever seen. To Han, it served as a testament to the life he had gone to great lengths to avoid for decades.

Yet, here they were; a pair of undesirables that never really belonged anywhere, brought to a court of nobles to be put on display like a barbaric circus act. But to drag such a young boy into all of this; Han thought that it was the cruelest part of this game that they played, and it took everything he had to not dry heave whenever anyone referred to this _boy_ as his husband.

"Um..." Deidara began to speak, but his words escaped him.

Han acknowledged him, and said, "Yes? Is something on your mind?"

"I'm not really a very good dancer. I don't want people to watch," Deidara said softly.

"You should have brought that up earlier. You're going to have to dance at least once tonight, and it's gonna be in front of everybody," Han said in a scolding tone.

"Would it be too much trouble if I excused myself outside for a little, hm?" Deidara asked.

" _Where_?" Han asked, skeptical of Deidara's motives.

"Just over to that courtyard. See? It's that one, right out there," Deidara said as he pointed to the small garden just outside of a side door.

Han was still skeptical, but he knew Deidara couldn't realistically run very far with all of the guards watching. It might actually calm him down enough before the crowds of people started showing up too, so there was no real reason to object to this small request.

"Fine, just be back before the sun's totally set. Go that?" Han said.

"No problem. I'll be back within the hour," Deidara said, and flashed Han a small grin before he turned to walk out of the door.

After Deidara closed the door behind him, Han was left alone to his own devices for the time being. He looked around the lofty hall, where little particles of dust floated above in the rafters. Out of the corner of his eye he almost spotted a slip of paper on the walls, but the moment he gave it his full attention there was no such thing.

It wasn't as if he didn't know what was inevitably going to happen; Deidara wasn't showing any sign of improvement after any training they had given him. It may have been due to he and Roshi's lackluster teaching skills, or maybe Deidara was simply a terrible student, but the fact still remained that Deidara was little more than a human meat shield for Han. As much as he didn't want to admit it, he did care for the boy a little. Maybe not in the way he was expected to, but in a pitying way he felt a connection to him. As he was, however, Deidara could not protect Han.

It had been almost forty years of endless torment as the five tailed horse's host, and in her defense, Kokuo was a rather nice beast. She was never really the problem; in fact, she had an inexplicable fondness for Deidara. She saw him as a child to play with, and one to love and nurture. It was her pointless kindness that urged Han to learn how to care for him properly.

It was really the people of his country, his village, and even his own family; _they_ were the ones that tormented Han, and Roshi as well. He was sure Roshi would defect once he caught word of Han's capture, and hoped for a decent future to happen for Deidara. The Earth Mother herself knew that they both deserved something good to happen for once.

He figured it was time to ask whoever had followed them this far to reveal themselves, for he grew weary of the chase. It was time he settled things with this group of people that wanted his tailed beast.

It seemed the stalker had taken care of the first part for him, as when Han turned to face the front door a woman with blue hair stood in front of him. She blocked the path out of the building, but that didn't matter to him. He was tired, and he wanted to rest. Perhaps this woman would be the one to finally lay him down; he hoped that Deidara would understand his position. It had been a long time coming, and a long time wanted.

"I take it you're part of that group. So how will this go? I'm not in the mood to fight," Han said.

The woman had a downtrodden look about her; her eyes seemed sad, and her expression was almost unhappy. It was a far cry from the two that came before, who looked almost jovial in comparison to her. She stepped forward; though she was much smaller than Han, she knew that she held all of the aces in this situation.

"You mean you'll come quietly with me?" she asked.

"Maybe. I just want your promise that you won't harm my student out there," Han gestured to the courtyard where he hoped Deidara was blissfully ignorant of what was happening.

"I have no orders to kill anyone if they don't stand in my way. If that's what you want, I can give that comfort," she said.

"Then let's make this quick. I guess it would be a problem if I said goodbye to the kid," Han said.

The woman eyed the door, then said, "I'm afraid that it would raise suspicion, I'm sorry. Let's go now."

"Your Jutsu is paper-based, right? Do you mind if I borrow a few pieces of it? I want to write a note to the kid," Han said.

"But I don't have a pen," the woman said.

"It's fine, I think I have one in my coat here. Ah, yeah, here we go. Now hand me a piece of that paper you've got there," Han said as he pulled out a small pen from his coat pocket.

The woman handed Han a few slips of her paper, and Han quickly scribbled down a sentence on each one of them. He folded them individually, then handed them to the woman. She looked at him, puzzled, and unsure of what he wanted her to do with these.

"Give them to him. I expect you to be the one to inform my pupil of my death," Han said.

"I don't think I should be responsible for them," she said.

"Just take them. Listen to this old horse's request, and just trust me that it's important that you be the one to give him these," Han said, his voice stern.

The woman scoffed, but begrudgingly took the papers. It wouldn't look good to waste a target's leniency by being rude. She could always stash them later, and probably forget about them quickly after that. She took Han's hand into her own, and within a few moments the bright hues of the dance hall faded away.

What Han saw before him was something unworldly, unholy, and almost pitch-black. There was no trace of familiarity in sight - only a damp, dark room with an eerie statue in the back. Han had a sinking feeling that his minutes were numbered, and with a resigned sigh, he began to say his final prayers to the Earth Mother under his breath. In the recesses of his mind, he kicked himself for not giving anyone a proper goodbye.

 **-and-and-and-and-and-**

 _"It looks like it'll snow, doesn't it, My Sunshine?"_

Deidara had only been outside for five minutes before he heard a familiar voice behind him. He turned around, and he jumped in shock from the figure before him. His appearance was a bit less regal in the light, with a large scar that covered half of his face and a bit of a limp when he walked. It didn't bother Deidara too much though; he had seen the condition most of the men were in where he lived, and this was quite an improvement from the average pug-nosed beast that walked about the streets in the daylight.

His Prince sneered, and with a grin, he said, "What's wrong, Sunshine? Aren't you happy to see your prince?"

Deidara's face flushed, and he said, "Yes, it's all well and good to see you here, but do you realize that we're not exactly _alone_ here, hm?"

His Prince shrugged, and said, "If you mean those guards that were around here, I can just kill them if they get too close to me. I've already killed a few, actually."

"You seem to really rely on killing, don't you, hm?" Deidara asked, somewhat nervous to be alone with this man.

"It keeps the peace, and it occasionally pays the bills," His Prince said.

Deidara cleared his throat, and in an attempt to change the subject, he said, "So, what brings you here all of a sudden, hm?"

"I'm just here to pass along the message about your husband," he said.

"What about him?" Deidara asked, his body tensed.

His Prince paused for a moment, then said, "I'm here to ask what you'd like for your reward."

Deidara felt his heart sink, and his breathing grew erratic. He knew the weight of those words meant that something had finally happened, and of all things, it happened in the few minutes Han had left his sight. He felt a sense of guilt, dread, and a feeling of uncertainty for what was to come after the Tsuchikage had found out about his son's disappearance. More importantly, what was to become of _himself_ , now that he was a widow.

His Prince walked over to Deidara, who was leaning on the nearest tree to support himself. When His Prince took him into his arms, Deidara crumbled into them as if he were made of the mud he was named after. He stayed there for a while, shaking, holding back his tears, and trying not to make too much noise. How could he tell this man that he was terrified to be completely and utterly _alone_? He couldn't bear to open his heart to someone he barely knew, let alone someone he had known for a while. It wasn't in his nature to be so sensitive, but at times he wished it was.

His Prince stroked his hair, and softly, he said, "You shouldn't be so sad, My Sunshine. He left with my affiliate on his own. _He wanted to die_. Don't trouble yourself with the desires of someone who didn't even consider how you felt."

Deidara rubbed his face into His Prince's coat, and said, "He didn't even ask to say goodbye?"

" _No_. I'm afraid when it came down to it, he only cared about his own wishes," His Prince said.

"He must have really hated me..." Deidara said under his breath.

"He hated everyone, My Sunshine. Those Jinchuriki - they're not a nice bunch. The world would be better off without them; that's what my group aims for, actually," His Prince said.

"I don't suppose your group is looking for a new member, hm?" Deidara asked.

His Prince looked him over, and said, "Sorry, you're not really what we want in my group. We don't let just anyone in. You actually need talent."

Deidara lowered his head; he was numb to the pain that those words normally would have caused him, and he didn't have a good response in mind to such an insult to his ego. Being told he had no talent was a new one for him, and he wondered if he would simply sink lower from here on, like a stone carelessly tossed in the ocean. The devilish husband killer; the black widow, a murderer by compliance at only fifteen years old. He knew that he deserved whatever he got, even if Onoki never found out the truth.

"I guess if I have to pick a reward, I'd just like some really nice sculpting clay," Deidara said.

"That's it? Nothing else?" His Prince asked.

"No. Just the nicest sculpting clay you can buy. That's all," Deidara said firmly.

"Fine then, if that's all you're asking for then I can get that pretty easily. You've officially earned the mercy of my group for being such a damn easy client," His Prince said, then stepped away from the more-stabilized Deidara.

"Thanks for the business, My Sunshine," His Prince said, then in an instant it looked as though he was sucked into some type of vortex. Before Deidara could even speak, His Prince had vanished into thin air.

So there Deidara stood; alone in the night while the snow had begun to fall, and no one left in the world that he felt close to. He gripped the fur shawl, somewhat thankful that Han had suggested that he wear it. His eyes stung, and his chest felt tight, but he needed to return to the dance hall. People were bound to show up soon, and he best be composed when they did; he had a lot to tell them, preferably without mentioning that he played a part in Han's murder.

He heard the door creak open; he turned around, only to be faced with a sight he hadn't seen in months. The robes she wore were red - an obvious choice for a noble in the Earth Country. Her face looked pained, as if she knew what Deidara was about to say before he had even said it. Yet she smiled, a look of relief on her face as she saw that Deidara was unharmed. She ran over to her former "mother", and embraced him in a tight hug. Deidara hugged her back; even if she wasn't the exact person he wanted to see, she was far more alive than anyone he wished to hug then.

"You're okay, big brother," Kurotsuchi said with her face buried into Deidara's chest.

Deidara patted her head, and said, "Yes, yes I am, little one. Is your grandpa around? I need to speak with him."

Kurotsuchi sighed, and said, "Yeah, he's not far. I'll take you to him."

Deidara nodded, and followed Kurotsuchi back into the dance hall. They went through a door that led to a large staircase; it must have gone up to the highest point in the building, because Deidara couldn't see where it ended from the ground. The little princess led Deidara up the stairs, and through a door that contained a room that was tiled with white marble. It was dimly lit by the moon and stars outside, though it was also quite empty. Onoki was nowhere in sight, only a large scroll atop a stone table was even in the room at all.

Puzzled, Deidara turned around to ask Kurotsuchi why they were there, but she was nowhere to be found. Deidara frantically looked around for her, yet he couldn't see where she had gone. He tried to leave the room, but as he was about to walk into the hall the door was slammed into his face. He stepped back, then immediately went to the window to escape. Before he had even begun to run, though, he felt an aching pain in both of his hands. It was almost agony, and he could feel his blood trickle down his fingers.

While he tried not to retch, he felt his punctured hands be pinned together. Someone was there with him; someone who was about to kill him. Deidara was held in place by his ghastly restraints as he felt the cold metal pierce his chest, then the sickening warmth of his own blood that emptied out of him onto the marble floor. He was let go, and fell onto the floor in agony. The stakes in his hands were removed with a quick, forceful tug. He could not scream, for his voice was hoarse and his mouth was full of blood. When he saw those little red shoes walk away from his immediate vision, he cursed himself for being so kind.

 _That was the last time_ , Deidara thought to himself. If that was what she had wanted - even if she were forced to do this - it would be no different than if he were to confront Onoki. How fortunate for everyone that he would be dead soon, so they wouldn't have to be subjected to Deidara's idea of just how to go about their deaths. He looked to the table in the center of the room, and up to the scroll on top of it. He figured he could destroy something of their's on the way out. The least he could do was knock over that pillar, and get his blood all over that important-looking scroll.

He crawled in a pathetic, bloody mess until he was an arm's length away from the table. He grabbed it and shook it until the scroll dropped to the floor beside him, and he made sure to grab it and rub his blood over as many places in the texts as possible. It wasn't until a few seconds of flipping through the parchment did he even bother to look down to the texts, even if they weren't able to be read by him. The one he was stopped at looked rather interesting, as it seemed to have two places on the scroll for the hands to be placed. Maybe it was a medical Jutsu? That would have been just perfect, but he couldn't be totally sure.

Deidara was dying, however, and the dying seldom went without a fuss. He should have lived his last moments how he saw fit, for nothing would truly be able to save him anyway. It was a childish thing to act on, but as Deidara rested his bloodied hands and chest on top of the scroll, he could have almost told himself that all would be okay. Someday, somewhere; _just not here_.

He rested his eyes, for the pain was numbed. The blood was still on the floor in a puddle, and he was still dead, but he was at peace with whatever awaited him.

 **-and-and-and-and-and-**

 _In the end, no one came._

The sunlight poured in through the curtains in the room; a beautiful, ornate cage for one who would choose to stay trapped. The young boy sat in the tower, his robes torn, and his body mutilated. Yet, he was happy.

Beside him sat a rather substantial brick of clay, tied with a little red bow. His Prince had come in the night to give him this gift, yet all this little Sundrop could do was admire his own precious gifts he had given to himself. _How beautiful_ he thought, and indeed he was. There was no one quite like him anymore, and that made him feel happy. _Better_ than happy; he felt important, superior, and worthy this way.

It was a happy accident that the little modifications he had used to patch his body up were the first things to come into contact with this lovely gift. At first, he tried to fight it; he tried to remove the clay from the cute little mistakes in the palms of his hands. After a tiny bit of frantic meddling, Deidara had discovered that these weren't just disfigurations. These were meant to knead chakra into objects; with Deidara's naturally subpar chakra flow, it couldn't have been a more convenient page to choose to die on.

After a bit more careful experimentation, Deidara had discovered that his Kekkei Genkai was no exception. It had only been a few hours, but he was starting to understand how this was supposed to work. He needed to make the little sculptures in his fingers if he wanted the result to not be an unsightly mound, but it was a small price to pay - for now.

They hadn't come to retrieve his body yet, but when the inevitable guard walked in, they would be the first real canvas Deidara got to use for his new clay. He couldn't wait to take in the look on their face; how many faces would be enough to satisfy him, he did not know. Nor care, really. There was nothing to hold him back, and no one to hold him down any longer.

Deidara watched a little white bird fly about in the sky. It looked almost like a dove in the morning sun. It was beautiful, and doubly so when Deidara lifted his two right fingers in a hand sign and watched the little bird explode in a tiny burst of heat. It turned out he had a natural affinity for one-handed signs, which made him laugh at how stupid he had been to trust anyone else with his "training".

He felt akin to a bird right there, as he leaned over the windowsill and overlooked the whole Stone Village; he swore he could have taken flight right then and there. While it was mostly his own imagination, in reality, he truly had nowhere to go but up from here.

All the better, because he wanted the people he was going to murder to only look up to him. All was right with the world now, for the world was far beneath his feet as he soared to greater heights.

Deidara threw his head back and laughed, though his voice was still hoarse from last night. As another bird burst into flames in the distance, he realized how beautiful it looked when he had such control over it. The sickly noises his hands made now wasn't too much of a bother; not with a benefit such as this.

He had to remember to thank His Prince when he saw him again. This was quite a nice visit to the Stone Village, _indeed_.

 **-and-and-and-and-and-**


	5. Oh, Mother Earth!

_The light burned his eyes; it hurt to even glance its way._

 _It would remind him of all that he handed over, tied up in a neat little bow._

 _"Was this worth it to you, you filthy beast?"_

 _Deidara, for once, found himself at a loss for words. He did not know the answer._

Though he had a smile that could light a room, he could not have been grinning for a darker reason. Deidara stood several feet away from the door that led to the outside; that led to the object of his intense rage. It was time to genuinely test this ability he had acquired through unconventional means, and a wooden door would do just fine for now; there was always a chance his little invention wasn't enough to kill a human target. No, he couldn't have that; he couldn't be responsible for making something as ugly as a disfigured face due to a failing on his part.

With his body tensed, and an apprehensive, shaken hand sign delivered, a little bird emerged from the orifice in Deidara's palm. He winced at the foreign feeling, though it did not cause him to err from his goal. It was only a door that stood in his way; nothing but a board of flimsy wood that awaited his kindling. It was the inevitable guards that charged in afterward which worried Deidara the most, as he hadn't truly murdered someone before.

As he fumbled his hand signs around for a brief moment, Deidara heard the loud clunking of soldier's boots ascending the staircase. He knew it was time, but his hands could not come to an agreement with his mind; his worthless teachings hadn't proven helpful in the least.

His heart began to race, and his stomach fluttered as he frantically tried to make the hand sign work. Deidara's breathing grew erratic, while the little bird patiently waited by the door for its creator's command. _Come on now_ , he thought, _you have practiced this all night_! Surely he could perform this once, but the pressure of the few seconds he had to begin his long, tantalizing march to the object of his anger was too much for him to bear. What a failure he must have been to all those who watched him from the afterlife, and it seemed that even the sun in the morning sky shone a little less brightly from the pity it felt for him.

The little white bird flew back to its creator, and perched upon his shoulder. _Funny_ , Deidara thought, he had just pictured it doing just that. He looked to the bird, then to the open window, and quietly mulled over the thought of the bird flying out the window. As if the little one could read his mind, it flew straight out of the exact window he had in mind. Deidara trembled, for he was never told of just how powerful chakra was. He was told it was originally meant to be a network, but he never pictured being able to control the creatures he had fused his own chakra into.

" _Please_ ," Deidara muttered, and bent down so that he was on eye level with the bird. It cocked its head, as if it were listening to him. Deidara looked out the window, to the vast blue sky that was just out of his reach.

When he raised his two fingers once more, it felt almost like a natural reaction. This was what might have been the next step that had always eluded him; this was the true way to destroy all the art he created. Even with wings that laid their birth in blood, filth, and death, Deidara knew it was the time to fly away into the horizon with a sea of red in his wake.

" _Help me_."

Deidara felt himself be blown back a couple of feet by the force that exuded from the bird in the next moment. Before him was no longer a small white clay dove, but something more akin to a proud eagle, or a beast from a story book. It perched proudly, and patiently waited just outside the arched window. It seemed that it was not going to leave without Deidara, so with little hesitation, the young widow climbed onto the bird's back.

The wings flapped with great force, as though it wasn't quite sure how to take off properly. With a good amount of effort however, and a chunk of the building being taken with it, the bird managed to gain a bit of altitude and fly just above the tower it had come out of. _Perfect_ , he thought. All he needed to do now was get himself to the Tsuchikage's homestead to carry out his revenge, then he could fly off to the south - never to be seen again.

Deidara looked down to the city below him, where a small crowd of people had gathered once they took notice of the large white bird that flew about above them. Deidara looked down to the large chunk of clay he had clumsily carried with him in his other arm, and got an idea as he saw the people below him "ooh" and "ahh" at what must have been such a lovely sight for the townsfolk to behold. A blond beauty in a silken blue gown, atop a white bird in the morning sky? It was a quaint picture, but it was something that could surely stand to be improved. _His chest was the only thing covered in red right now, as well_.

He used the hand he held the clay in to tear a piece of it off with the atrocity that had become part of it, and in a painful few seconds a couple of tiny clay owls were spat back out at him. He wanted to retch, but kept his focus on the flight to the manor. He tossed the little sculptures into the air, and performed the hand sign once more to turn them into normal-sized owls. They flew down to the crowd of civilians, and the people cheered with shock and delight to this foreign entity above them. The dim and ignorant masses of this village who proudly obeyed a man who couldn't rise above killing children deserved to die, and as Deidara was about to give his creations their final command he saw something that stood out to him.

It was a little girl - not too much older than him - with dirt smudges that covered her face and arms, and her hair wrapped back to keep it out of her eyes. Her face looked downtrodden and weary despite her youth, but the one thing that Deidara could not look away from was her swollen belly that she occasionally put a hand on.

As one of the owls flew above this girl, Deidara felt a weird sense of guilt. He would have never been able to bear Han a son, and he may very well have been the luckiest young bride in history, but that didn't invalidate this girl's - and the countless others he won't ever meet - experiences. She didn't choose this life for herself; it was this village that created such a system. It was never going to be different for her, and she couldn't do anything to stop it.

So the two little owls kept on flying, straight through the crowd of people and onto a nearby building to meet their final purpose as Deidara raised his two fingers to command them and the wretched structure to burn.

The loud noise that echoed through the sleepy district synched perfectly with the chorus of screams and cries that shortly followed. Since they now knew he was hostile, Deidara figured it was time to quit showboating and get on with his actual plan - the guards and many other Shinobi would be here shortly to defend their "great" Village anyway.

Deidara flew his prized bird at a far greater velocity than before towards the Kage's manor, ignoring all of the Shinobi below him that prepared their attacks. He could die later; what mattered above all else to him right now was that the family that lived in the home he quickly approached was burned to the ground as they slept.

Many shuriken, ballistae, and arrows were flung at him and his mount, which Deidara clumsily dodged as he tried to keep up his speed. A single arrow was suddenly caught in his bird's tail, then it's underbelly, and then the neck - dangerously close to Deidara. Panicked, he retreated even higher up into the air; it did very little to stop the onslaught of projectiles that followed him with relentless fire.

He looked below him briefly; it was just below him, and he couldn't even get a good shot in with all of the distractions. He had to keep dodging just to stay alive, and it wouldn't be long before something actually struck _him_ rather than the mount. It all seemed hopeless, and far too unlikely that he would successfully kill anything if this kept up, and there was no end in sight from the rapid-fire around him.

Deidara angrily cursed his weakness under his breath, but forgave himself for not being taught well enough to properly prepare an attack. Amidst the arrows and shuriken he flew even higher into the sky, and with the greatest force he could muster he willed his battered dove to carry its creator as far as it's dying body could take him. With gritted teeth and a gaze of fire, Deidara looked back to the manor one last time as he quickly made his escape. The next time would be the last time he ever saw this Village of Stone, for it would be a field of ashes when he returned.

 **-and-and-and-and-and-**

 _He was so very tired, and the clear brook and gentle breeze almost lulled him into a deep slumber. Yet he knew he could not rest; not until he knew he was safe._

Deidara had flown for about twenty minutes before he realized he might have made it obvious where he was headed, but even he did not truly know where he could go. In hindsight, it would have probably been wiser to land much earlier in his departure. That didn't stop him from leaning against a tree to rest for a little break. His bird was destroyed, and his clothes were bloodied to the point of ruin, so he needed to shed a few layers of clothes and create a new mount for the rest of his trek through oblivion.

He ripped apart the sash and skirt of the gown, which left him in a petticoat for bottoms. He tore his sleeves up, and tied the fur around his shoulders to his waist. He probably looked like a savage this way, but he didn't mind; what was important was that he could get away quickly if the need arose.

Deidara ripped off another piece of clay for the new addition to his hand to mould into another bird; this time he had an eagle made, since he felt a bit sentimental this morning. He immediately used his left hand to will the living work to be full sized in the event that he would need to leave before he was done defacing his old robes.

Deidara ripped the ribbons out from his hair, and shook his head to get the braids to fall out. He was never one for such formal styles; he was a Mountain Sprite at his core. He was most comfortable when everything he wore was loose and comfortable, which was something the Stone Village had never agreed with. To that Deidara silently bid a farewell, and good riddance to such a rigid way of life.

His gloves also required his action, but they, as well as the buttoned part of the dress that housed his torso, needed medical attention eventually. Even though Deidara didn't want to admit it, he wasn't ready to see what had become of his hands and chest quite yet. That aside, his chest was _rather_ sore. He needed to find someone who would be willing to help him soon; he couldn't let his journey end in infection.

He climbed upon his bird, then without a word it began to gain altitude at a slow, but sure pace. It seemed that he needed to work on taking off when he flew, as well as time management when he razed a city. Eventually the eagle was able to fly well above the ground, though Deidara noticed that his clothing he shredded off was left on the ground. He figured it couldn't hurt to quickly gather them, as nobody was nearby from what he saw.

He landed once more and picked up his clothes, but before he climbed back on the mount again a shuriken swiftly dug into the back of his shoulder. Deidara let out a yell of agony, and in a rage, he scrambled to bite off another bit of clay into his hand. This time he hurled the small figures several feet before him, then used his hand sign to enlarge them as minimally as possible. He created little clay bugs, or crickets to be exact. It would be worth it to see them hop onto his pursuer's faces and paint their bodies red with a gradient of blood and fire.

One man stepped out from behind a tree, and Deidara was grabbed from behind by another. A third man joined them, and finally a fourth. The one that held him in place forced Deidara to move with him, towards the man from the tree who had restraints in his hands. Deidara did not speak, but growled in a mix of anger and pain.

The man who came third grabbed Deidara's left hand, and examined it. He signaled for the fourth man to come take a look, and he looked amused by what he saw in the bloodied, torn glove as well. The third man laughed, and looked right into Deidara's face with a smirk of sadistic glee.

"That's a stolen Kinjutsu you've got there, you little rat. _It's forbidden_. No one's allowed to take that, at least if they want to live," the man said with a hissing tone. From the grins that all four men had, it seemed that they all took great pleasure in "serving" their Kage.

"What's a few more cuts then? He's already mutilated himself pretty good," the fourth man said as he stepped closer to Deidara, looking his face over.

"I'm guessin' it'll be death by public flogging for this one, so we'll wanna keep the face intact for the public," the first man said.

Deidara remained silent this entire time; he had kept a close eye on his bugs. Three were busy crawling up the legs of the men who stood before him, and one looked over the shoulder of the man who restrained him from out of the corner of his eye. He looked to the three men who once again walked away with their assumed "captured" target, and none of them seemed to notice quite yet. He was right to keep them small.

His creations weren't quite past their legs yet, but Deidara couldn't wait any longer. He performed the sign quickly, and was immediately blasted in the back of his head with a rush of heat. He was released from his restraints, and turned around to find that the man's head had been blown off. _His first_. Deidara looked back to the three men before him, all now crying, whimpering messes that helplessly tried to find their missing legs. One even called for his mother, _Deidara didn't quite know which_. He pulled the shuriken out of his shoulder, and sauntered over to the man who had grabbed him in such a crude manner.

Deidara stared at the destroyed man with a blank expression, for he did not trouble himself with their pathetic cries. _They deserved to die_. He was gracious, however, and felt it would be kind of him to end their suffering quickly.

With a few clumsy gashes, Deidara managed to slit the first man's throat properly. Now all that came from him was a stream of blood, and a few gurgles with his dying breath. He looked to the man that suggested to cut his face, and moved onto him next. Deidara pushed one of the sharp edges of the shuriken into one of his eyes, then the other. His cries grew louder, so Deidara quickly cut at his throat until he stopped. _It worked rather well_.

Finally came the man who had suggested a public flogging. He had been gracious enough to save Deidara from any more of the other two's repulsive chatter, so he deemed him worthy of a death similar to the beheaded man behind them. He ripped another piece of clay off with his hand, and kneaded it full of his chakra, then spat a small clay dove onto the man's face. He performed his hand sign for the first time with an audience, and looked into the man's eyes. _They gazed up at him in terror._

" _Thank you_ ," Deidara said softly as the man's face erupted into a bouquet of gore and flames. The four corpses around him were no longer an issue, so Deidara deemed it best to leave quickly before anyone else came for him.

Deidara walked back to where his clay eagle waited for him, and gathered back his clothing before he turned back to the men he had murdered. There was no sense in letting their tools go to waste, and it wasn't unheard of for his brother to come home with new loot from an unfortunate soul he had found in the woods. He was very familiar with this practice, and he needed all he could to survive.

After a bit of examination of the corpses, Deidara had gathered ten kunai knives, fifteen shuriken, a rope, some water that he did not know how clean it was, and most importantly a pack that wrapped around the waist. One pouch on each side, and one of those was definitely reserved for his clay. He placed his precious clay and the water into their own side, and the rope, shuriken, and kunai into the other. He swiped a Stone Village crest headband off of one of the men while he was at it, as he needed a replacement for his travels, and placed it in the bag along with the weapons. He wrapped the fur shawl back around his shoulders to make room for his new pack, and then proceeded back to his mount to make his way far away from here.

As he forcefully took off from the ground once more, he figured it was a good idea to decide where he wanted to hide out. The tricky part was getting there; seeing as he was a Stone Village Shinobi he would have to travel through a hostile nation no matter which route he took. Realistically he could fly the entire way there, but he wanted to conserve this phenomenal ability for the times when this was absolutely necessary. People might catch on otherwise.

It was almost midday, and Deidara was exhausted from the sleepless night and brutal morning he had endured so far. He needed to find somewhere to rest, and someone that might take pity on a poor, helpless young man who was so brutally attacked by others. Yes, that was a good enough alibi for now. What was worse, he would tell the unsuspecting target, was that he could barely defend himself from that group of _utter monsters_.

 **-and-and-and-and-and-**

 _From up so high, Deidara could see the stars among the orange and lavender sunset in the sky. He wondered to himself if this was what the Gods felt like._

It had been about an hour since Deidara had spotted a building that looked safe to land near. He needed to play it in a precise way; he couldn't just land at the gates and demand entry. He had to land a little ways away from the site, and fabricate a name and story while he was at it. He was still in Earth Country as far as he could tell, and truthfully he didn't know quite where it ended. So thus he had to keep pushing forward; there were no breaks to be had until he felt that he was safe enough to rest for what could potentially be a whole day.

There was a small home off in the distance, and it looked uninhabited from what Deidara could tell. He flew a little bit lower to get a better look, but much to his dismay there was an old woman not too far in what appeared to be a herb garden. Herbs might have meant medical help - which was important - but Deidara was still wary of anyone loyal to Onoki. He didn't know how far out in the country his followers resided.

At the very least, an old woman could be killed if she were hostile. Deidara was growing too tired to continue for much longer, so he made the decision to land in a forest clearing a couple of hundred feet away from the home he had set his sights on. With a soft thud, his mount crumbled away as it hit the ground, leaving a pile of unusable clay in its stead. Deidara sighed; he needed to be more careful with how much clay he used, as he couldn't afford to constantly buy more.

He slowly walked out of the clearing towards the home, and soon enough the old woman caught notice of him. She looked somewhat distressed; probably due to the fact that Deidara was covered in blood and filth from head to toe. He tried to put on his best front as to not completely scare the woman off. When Deidara was only a few yards away from the elderly woman, who had fled to the front deck of her home in fear, he looked to her with pleading eyes.

Deidara's lips trembled, but then he gathered his strength and said, " _Please_ , help me..."

The old woman gasped as she got a full look at the bloodied and battered boy before her, begging for her help. She held up a single finger then hurried inside, leaving Deidara out there alone. He looked around, a little confused. What was she going to get in her house for him? Deidara was so tired that if she were to emerge with a weapon to defend herself he would likely die right there.

The old woman came back out of her home with a young man. He was a fair bit older than Deidara, but he still had a boyish look about him. He even had the same gray-colored hair as this woman to boot. The young man smiled, then gestured for Deidara to come inside with them. Deidara hastily bowed to thank them, and followed the old woman and who he assumed was her grandson inside.

The grandson forced Deidara to sit down on a couch and immediately began to rip open his dress top to see what was the source of the blood stains on his clothes. He retched, then immediately toppled backward as he caught the sight of whatever was now a part of Deidara. Deidara didn't want to look; he kept his eyes squeezed shut to spare himself the horror of his mutilated body.

"Fix it," Deidara said with a moan of agony and exhaustion.

"I... I don't know if I can fix this, young man," he said.

Deidara finally felt whatever was now in his chest move around inside of him. It was slimy, thick, and cold. Deidara felt nauseous, but was too tired to do much of anything anymore. He was too terrified of this thing killing him to move much, either.

"Don't be so quick to give up, my boy. We can restrain that thing with a basic seal," the old woman said as she came back into Deidara's sight.

The young man restrained Deidara by his shoulders, looked down at the bloody mess just a foot below him, and said, "I don't know how you're still alive, honestly. Let me give you a little something for sleep."

Deidara almost shouted "No", but it was too late. His vision faded to black, and his body went limp in the man's arms. At the very least, Deidara couldn't feel pain anymore.

Deidara heard the crackling fire as he stirred, and the loud rainfall that hit the windowpane behind him. It was such a calm place now, and so quiet too; it made Deidara wonder if he had died last night. He turned to see the old woman asleep in a chair by the fire, and the young man was in the kitchen cutting up vegetables and a bit of beef. The home was far smaller than Deidara had realized, as he could see the entirety of the downstairs from where he lay.

He felt no pain any longer; as he gently prodded around his chest, whatever sickening alien that had moved about inside him last night was replaced with thick stitches that bound his chest back together. It wasn't moving anymore, whatever was inside him. It was as if it was never even there at all, though he knew that was a lie when he looked down to see the large wound that had been sewn shut just above his heart. It looked like Kurotsuchi missed it altogether.

His hands - while the smaller orifices on them were still free - were also cleaned up. It looked as if he was also relieved of his tattered garment; he hoped it was the old hag who changed him into the white robe he had slept in, for the idea of a man close to him in age seeing him naked filled him with a sense of humiliation he didn't care to experience.

The young man took notice of Deidara as he moved around on the couch, and rushed over to him to check on his patient. He smiled, and adjusted his robe for him so it didn't expose his chest. Deidara's face grew hot; he hadn't been around such a young man before who had helped him so intimately. He got up from his makeshift bed, but stumbled as he tried to stand before the young man caught him.

"Thank you," Deidara said softly with his head lowered.

"Don't worry about it. It's not like us to let someone die like that," he said, easing Deidara into a sitting position on the couch.

"May I have your names, hm?" Deidara asked as he stretched his body.

The young man smiled, and said, "My name is Kabuto Yakushi. I'm not related to her, but the old woman asleep over there is called Erina."

Deidara smiled weakly, and said, "Those are nice names. I hate to be such a bother, so I'll probably be heading off soon."

"Why? There's gonna be a storm all night, why not stay here and wait it out in shelter?" Kabuto asked.

"I'm sorry, it's probably best that I don't tell you what I'm going through," Deidara said.

Kabuto scoffed, and said, "You sound like my father."

Deidara chuckled a little after Kabuto broke out into a small bout of laughter himself; he must have meant it as a joke. Deidara tried to get up once more, his legs a bit less shaken than earlier. He looked down at what he was wearing; he couldn't travel very well like this, especially in the rain where his clay birds would not be able to fly. He needed to find a way to make it out of Earth Country on foot for now, and that would require better travel attire.

"Listen Kabuto, I need a little help getting on my feet. I've got a long journey ahead of me, and I'm not exactly well-prepared. Do you think you can help me, hm?" Deidara asked.

"Where are you headed?" Kabuto asked with a finger on his chin.

"I don't know. Anywhere that's safe from Earth Country will do," Deidara said.

"Have you considered River Country? It's a bit of a hike, but if you can make it there alive you'll probably be able to live pretty peacefully," Kabuto said.

"How do I get there, hm?" Deidara asked.

"Well, no matter what way you go, you're going to be crossing enemy territory. I'd suggest going through the outskirts of Wind Country myself, since the Sand Village isn't anywhere close to where you'd be traveling and it keeps you far out of the way of the Leaf Village and the Rain Village," Kabuto said.

"Um, may I ask for a map... and some better clothes, hm?" Deidara asked, not able to look Kabuto in the eye when doing so.

"Oh yeah, sure, no problem. Here's your bag, by the way. Just wait right here, I've got something that will fit you just fine," Kabuto said as he dug through a dresser full of clothes not too far from where Deidara sat.

Kabuto pulled out a green jacket and a chainmail shirt, as well a pair of black pants, and handed them to Deidara. As Deidara examined the apparel, Kabuto went into the kitchen and poured some of the food he was cooking into a thermos, then shoved that along with some bread and an apple into the tool side of Deidara's bag. He then pulled out a cloak that was worn-out and dingy, then placed it in Deidara's lap.

"I'm going to go upstairs for a bit. You change and head out as soon as you can, I don't want you to feel trapped here," Kabuto said.

Deidara bowed to thank Kabuto as he went upstairs to do whatever he must have had to do. He quickly disrobed and pulled on the chainmail shirt and pants, then wrapped the jacket around himself and tied it together with his bag. He looked over to where Erina was sleeping, only to find her awake and staring right at him. His face grew red, but he hastily got up and tried to leave without saying a word.

"Is that how you thank an old woman, young man?" Erina said.

Deidara turned around and bowed to her, then said, "Thank you very much for saving me, but I really have to leave now."

Erina let out a few loud hacking coughs before she said, "Now, now, you aren't going anywhere until you come over here and take this old ribbon out of my hands."

Confused, Deidara approached Erina and examined her hand, which was in-fact holding a seafoam-green ribbon. He took it from her, as she had asked, and asked, "What is this for, hm?"

"Tie it in your hair," Erina said, almost commanding him.

Deidara obediently did as he was instructed and tied the ribbon loosely near the bottom of his hair, then looked down to Erina, and asked, "Thank you, but why are you giving this to me?"

Erina chuckled, her voice raspy from old age, and said, "Just a curse, my dear."

Deidara's heart skipped a beat, and he asked, "What? Why are you putting a curse on me, hm?"

Erina looked him over, and in a low voice, she said, "Not you, _Mater_. Now go."

Deidara had other questions, but this old hag freaked him out too much to keep talking to her. He rushed out of the home, and slammed the door shut on his way out. He quickly bolted down the steps, and then into the woods that from his memory were south of where he had started his trek. He didn't want to spend any more time here, and he wondered to himself what exactly Kabuto was doing with an old woman who cursed people. It didn't matter, he supposed; it was more important that he made it to Wind Country safely. He covered his head with the cloak as the rain fell down in the dark forest; it looked as if there was no end in sight of the storm, but Deidara didn't mind. He enjoyed the protection it gave him from any pursuers, assuming nature didn't kill him in their stead.

 **-and-and-and-and-and-**

 _Click._

Kabuto Yakushi picked up the old telephone in the room he had been offered by the old hag who took him in. He had scouted for a little while for his master, and now he might have a lead on someone who could fit the bill for his requested partner. Strong, young, and obedient. Stupid and naive as all hell, to boot. He was absolutely perfect.

He had just finished up his conversation with Sasori, and immediately dialed another source of intel he worked for. It wasn't fair that _only_ Sasori got to know of this young man; he figured that the Wind Country should know he was coming, as well as the Earth Country.

Whatever became of him playing three sides at once, if any one of them suffered a casualty, he came out on top either way. Either his master he pretended to be utterly and unquestioningly loyal to was killed, the Wind Country would pose even less of a challenge when another little pet project needed to be carried out, or the Earth Country would suffer a major blow to its militia.

He heard Erina ramble on from time to time about an Earth Mother who she thanked for every damn thing under the sun, and Kabuto for once agreed with her. Whatever that Deity she believed in had definitely given him a blessing worth thanking an idol for, _and what a blessing this was_.

Kabuto had made absolutely sure that such a generous gift of death would not go to waste.

 **-and-and-and-and-and-**


	6. Real Tears I Can Dry

_From out of the corner of his eye, Deidara almost saw a glimpse of bright, familiar red._

 _So very familiar._

 _Though he knew it was impossible, he found himself gravitating toward it. Like the fool he always had been, and always would be._

It was a long night, to say the least. Deidara could not help himself when it came time to rest. The fear lingered that someone, somewhere chased him still. It urged him on even after a night of thunder, floods, and lightning that struck trees off in the wilderness. It kept him moving even after an entire day's worth of distance put between him and any man smarter than he when it came to the weather; Deidara was too afraid to stay put for long.

He sat in a mossy cave for the time being; he was quickly running out of energy again despite how much adrenaline pumped through his body. His eyes were dry and stinging, and they were heavy with exhaustion - just like his legs. He pulled out the food Kabuto had prepared for him, and opened the package to grab a small chunk of meat; he didn't know when he would have access to food again, so he needed to ration his food carefully. It was a pity that the food Kabuto made was so good - unlike the pungent root vegetable stews Han used to make for him, he actually wanted to scarf down every morsel of this meal. He vowed that once he knew for certain that he was out of Earth Country he would fall where he stood, and sleep for an entire week as a reward for a job well done. That time, however, had yet to come to pass.

He kept examining the little mouths on his hands; the more he looked at them, the cuter they became. In a morbid way they were almost endearing. The way they smiled, and their little tongues and teeth. They were like two miniature pets all for Deidara to enjoy. He grinned back at his right hand's mouth as it gave a little smile; he quite enjoyed the mostly-quiet company they provided.

Deidara crammed a chunk of beef into his mouth, with his hand mouths nipping at the foreign object placed near them. It was a rather tedious process, Deidara realized, to even eat with his hands any longer. He supposed it didn't matter at the moment; all of Deidara's small grievances about his new body parts were not able to be fixed in a cave somewhere in a seemingly endless forest. It was all the more motivation for him to push onward in his trek to the Wind Country.

 _I need to keep going_ he thought as he willed his weary legs to move the moment he was done eating. He didn't know how much longer it would take him to get to the border of Earth Country, but there was no use in stopping for even one unnecessary second. He hoped there was a checkpoint soon, though; he didn't know how much longer he could keep this up.

His legs were like lead weights that drudged through the verdant forest; he stumbled over roots of trees that towered far above him while the foliage crunched beneath his ponderous footsteps. Deidara swayed off to the side from time to time, nearly running into low branches or tripping over bushes. His face was hot with exhaustion, and his eyelids felt as heavy as his legs.

Yet he knew that if he stopped for too long the only thing that would find him would be death. Though he didn't let himself admit it, he wished more than ever that his family were still here with him. He longed to simply breathe in the scent of his mother's perfumes, or his father's cologne, or even the smell of smoke and pine that his brother would often don. He wished for it all back, even Han would do. Just someone, _anyone_ , that he could fall into the arms of to rest.

 _I'm so tired_ Deidara thought, _so damn tired_. His scrawny legs could barely carry him a few yards before he slumped down by a tree trunk; it was thick, pleasantly cool, and covered in soft moss like most of this forest, so it didn't take much to lull the young man into a slumber the moment he touched the ground.

 **-and-and-and-and-and-**

 _In his dream, he was on fire._

Deidara stood in the middle of a room he did not recognize, accompanied by ghosts. Han, his father and mother, and his brother; they surrounded Deidara from all sides, so he could not escape. It was so hot in this damp, stuffy room that he wanted to ask his mother to get him some water. The way she glared at him, though - the way all of them glared at him - was not a way he could recall his mother ever looking at him, or any of them.

Each one of them gazed upon Deidara in contempt, a burning rage visible in their eyes. _Why do you look so angry_? He wanted to ask, but the words were caught in his throat. He felt a swift, sharp pain on his face, and heard the crack of a whip. Deidara stammered, then fell onto his backside from the shock of it. He gazed up to his father in horror, his always-gentle hand raised. Never before had he struck him, so why _now_?

 _What did I do, hm?_ he choked out as tears welled in his eyes. These were not his parents, this was not his brother, and he was almost certain Han would not stand by idly while Deidara was struck.

" _When it came down to it_ , _he only cared about his own wishes_."

His Prince's words echoed throughout the murky room. _Liar!_ Deidara thought, _Han cared, he cared, he really, really_ did _care_!

Deidara felt a white-hot heat in his belly; he doubled over and curled into a ball on the ground, the pain overtaking him. A moan of agony escaped his lips as he felt his belly swell, the heat coursing through his entire body. Soon enough, the fire was the blood in his veins, the beat of his heart, and every breath he took - he _was_ the fire.

Something clawed his innards as if a monster threatened to cut its way out of him with claws as sharp as blades. He tried to plead for help, but could no longer speak; the swell of his belly kept him on the ground in pain, and helpless to do anything while his loved ones closed in around him.

" _Whore_!"

" _Rat_!"

" _You filthy beast_!"

Deidara heard a soft clicking noise - the tapping of light, graceful footsteps approached him where he lay. The sound of joints and bone grating against each other echoed in his ears, which caused his flame-enveloped body to go cold within an instant. He looked up, and the ones he loved had left him once more. Before him stood that damned red-haired man, his brown eyes looking down on him with indifference.

" _It's not as if_ child whores _have much of a place in this world_ , _anyway_."

Deidara squeezed his eyes shut; he knew what was about to happen next. His burning, helpless little body would be no match for the immense blaze that was to come. He would just become part of the fire, with no identity of his own left in the world. He waited, his muscles tensed, and laid still for an unusually long amount of time. Yet the fire never came, and when he gathered the courage to open his eyes and see what was going on, the red-haired man remained before him - his hand held out to Deidara.

"This _world_ , _anyway_."

Deidara shakily lifted his slobbering hand to take the red-haired man's own, but before he could grasp it, he heard a loud cry not too far in the distance. Everything became fuzzy; the image of the man slowly distorted until it faded away completely. A white flash of light blinded Deidara for a brief moment, then all he could see was the bright blue sky and the tops of deep green trees.

Instinctively, Deidara felt around his belly - it was as flat as it had always been. His body was warm, but nowhere near as hot as he had been. _It was just a dream, hm_ Deidara thought as he gave a heavy sigh of relief. He smiled to himself; in the end, the dream was rather nice. He could have done without the beginning of it, though.

Perhaps it was the dream getting to him, but he had the sudden desire to see that red-haired man once again. To burn alongside him in a blaze strong enough to melt mountains, and to wrap his hands around his pale throat as the mouths on his palms bit at his jugular. _He tried to kill you_ Deidara reminded himself, _you can't think of him this way_ \- _you mustn't_!

It was of little use, however; Deidara had a passion for art, things of beauty, and the fire that could bring about a quick end to life. _Ephemeral beauty_ he thought, and he did so for a rather long time. When the time came that Deidara felt ready to continue on his trek to the Wind Country, he had decided that a special death was in order for the first man he had ever felt the absolute _need_ to kill.

 _Et Godt Farvel_ , a name for a murder of one you kept close to you. Deidara knew it would be perfect; one day, when he finally found that red-haired man.

 **-and-and-and-and-and-**

 _Click._

Sasori had just finished talking with his group's leader's second-in-command, Konan, about the new prospect for a partner he had recently "discovered". She was skeptical at first, but Sasori was rarely this adamant about anything; she felt it was best to concede and allow Sasori a small time of leave to go collect this young man he had raved about.

He laid back in the mahogany chair at his desk, his feet balancing him as the chair remained in suspension. The dusty hardwood floors beneath him creaked with each little rocking motion he made, though Sasori did not care. Not even a smile could be manufactured upon his lips, despite the excellent news he had received about a prospective partner that seemed to match all of his requested criteria.

In truth, he couldn't have been more ambivalent.

 _"What are his accomplishments?" he had asked Kabuto._

 _"Well, not much yet, but trust me, he's-"_

 _"I want you to tell me why he's so noteworthy," Sasori said before Kabuto could finish; he began to repeatedly tap on the mahogany desk he had seated himself at._

 _"He has a very interesting Kinjutsu," Kabuto answered._

 _"Need I remind you_ who exactly _you're saying this to?" Sasori snapped back, and glanced at a pale hand he had yet to finish painting on the far side of the room. He could have been stringing the joints for later use if it weren't for Kabuto's call._

 _"Well, you're not_ quite _the same, Master," Kabuto said, much more softly than before. Sasori could almost see the beads of sweat as they ran down Kabuto's forehead._

 _With his head held in his free hand_ _Sasori_ _sighed_. _"Fine. I'll go take a look at him. Just tell me where he is, or wherever you expect him to be, so I can decide for myself."_

 _" He should be making his way to Wind Country, and I think he said he wanted to make a home in River Country. This should be quite easy for you, given both of them are your_ _homes as well," Kabuto said._

 _Sasori snorted._ "No _. Only River Country. But I do thank you for your service. I'm sure you've picked out someone worth betting your life on."_

 _With that, Sasori hung up. He didn't care to hear what Kabuto had to say afterward._

Sasori hastily packed the bare essentials: a few scrolls that housed some of his puppets that could prove useful on the trip, a few vials of his own poison in case of an emergency, and most importantly - _certainly_ without question - was a little piece of paper he kept in his pocket. It just wouldn't feel right to leave home without it.

His home in River Country - where he currently resided - was his own personal base of operations. As he made his way downstairs he heard the wooden steps creak under his feet. He wondered if the home as it was would put off another person. Sure, it was spacious - and it should be so, considering the amount of work Sasori tasked himself with in his basement alone - but it did not exactly exude a welcoming aura.

As he shut the old wooden door he made a mental note to fix up the house a bit. He couldn't imagine allowing anyone he was partnered with to stay anywhere else, so he might as well make the home a tad more comfortable to those still bound to their human flesh.

The old cobblestone walkway to the home could do with a little sprucing up, as well. The plants around the home were dead, and the trees were overgrown in a less-than-charming way. Even the picket fence was little more than a line of decayed wooden stubs in the ground. No, none of this would do. It was a slow year anyway; he might as well busy himself with a hefty amount of repair work in his downtime.

 _I am no longer a part of the mortal coil_ Sasori reminded himself, _I need to get it through my head_ : _there's going to be_ a lot _of downtime_.

He pulled a scroll from his cloak sleeve; it contained a puppet he used frequently to ensure safe travel. Cute redheaded boys tended to not fair too well out on their own, as he knew from his own past experiences. Sasori preferred to travel around in his puppet, Hiruko, which was an ugly creature to be sure. It helped remedy that little problem quite easily; no one wanted ugly old men for their forced beddings.

Sasori spent so much time in it, most of the Akatsuki didn't even realize that Hiruko wasn't his real form. Evidently, this caused most to refrain from interacting with him, which suited Sasori just fine. He wasn't one for conversation or social interactions, and the less people approached him in his shell, the more he would use it.

As he stepped into the hollowed-out middle of Hiruko and closed the shell around himself, he wondered for a brief moment what his new partner would be like. He was from the Stone Village, which made Sasori quite pleased - young men from the Stone Village were raised under a strict militant ruler, and never made much of a fuss. An obedient, well-mannered, strong, and _quiet_ young man he could mould into whatever he desired. _How lovely_.

He supposed if something went horribly awry, and this boy needed to be disposed of, Sasori could always find a spot for him in his personal collection.

 **-and-and-and-and-and-**

 _There was a dirt road enshrouded by the lush green trees of the forest; Deidara knew from the marks of a wagon wheel that trailed across the path that he was almost there._

He knew he shouldn't tread on the main road, but he couldn't help himself when curiosity got the better of him; it tempted him to observe the road that led to his freedom. It even looked as though the storm had stopped altogether while he slept. Small wonder that he had begun to feel a little under the weather in the past few hours.

He took notice that Kabuto, as kind as he had been, had forgotten to pack him a map. This made his journey through the forest all-the-more difficult, to which Deidara cursed the smarmy silver-haired prick. The road beckoned him, promising to take the burden off his shoulders. Deidara knew, however, that if he really wanted to be safe he could just fly above the checkpoint. No need to tempt fate in such a way, not so close to the final gauntlet.

Deidara scouted a way to take flight in the forest, but there didn't seem to be a big enough opening. He figured he could just climb up one of the trees, so it wasn't that big of a deal. If it meant getting to safety undetected it was worth a perilous climb up a tree that towered over a hundred feet above him.

As Deidara gripped a low branch on a nearby tree that seemed thin enough to climb, he noticed a short figure off on the main road. He looked familiar to Deidara, but he didn't know if that was a good or bad thing for him. He recklessly kept peering at the man, and as he walked further down the road, Deidara recognized him as Roshi.

 _What is he doing here, hm?_ Deidara thought. He was very far from home, and he had figured Onoki would want his son to stay close by him when one of his sons had recently disappeared - as far as they knew - and a servant they had graciously taken in had attempted to murder the entire royal family while they slept.

Roshi stopped in his tracks, which caused Deidara to freeze up. Had he seen him? Deidara couldn't be sure, but foolishly, he dove into the bushes nearby to hide. It was too late, however, as Roshi already had made his way to just a few feet of where Deidara had ducked.

Deidara looked up, and was faced with Roshi looking back down at him. It took everything he had not to yelp from the fear that currently shook him to his very core, and caused the large tongue in his chest to wiggle along with his tremors.

"Blood of the Stones, Sundrop, you're alive!" Roshi said; he sounded rather surprised, not that Deidara blamed him.

"Are you going to take me back to the Stone Village, hm?" Deidara asked, his hand hovering over his clay pouch.

Roshi scoffed, then shook his head, and said, "Take you back? When the mountains crumble in the wind, that's when I'm setting foot back there. Seeing _you_ here, though... no, it's not impossible, just unlikely. Han would want you unharmed, I know. The Mother was good to us, it seems."

 _See_? _Liar_! Deidara thought as he recollected His Prince's words. Outwardly, though, he only smiled to Roshi, and said, "I don't have anywhere to go. I don't know what to do."

Without hesitation, Roshi said, "Come with me, then. Han would want you protected by someone he trusted, and, well... there aren't a lot of those people around. We'll be in Wind Country before the Moon is out, alright?"

Deidara cocked his head. "Won't Onoki ever wonder where you've gone, hm?"

"If he does, the word should've gotten back to him by then. I've defected, see?" Roshi said, then tapped his forehead protector. Where the crest of the Stone Village was once proudly displayed, a blank steel plate sat in its stead.

"Isn't that dangerous, hm?" Deidara had heard of missing ninja before, but always as a cautionary tale. He wasn't a real Shinobi, and that meant he could never be a real missing ninja. Thankfully, he didn't have to trouble himself with the worry over becoming an international criminal.

"Only if you go into a leading Village, Sundrop. I'm no fool, I know the only place worth visiting in Wind Country is the town off to the far west, _Hestia_ ," Roshi said, confidence in his words.

 _West_ Deidara thought for a moment, _that's the opposite direction of where I want to go_. Before Deidara could speak, however, Roshi had grabbed ahold of his right hand and began to drag him from the bush. Roshi stopped, however, when he felt the slimy tongue on Deidara's palm lick his own.

With a furrowed brow, Roshi examined Deidara's right hand, then his left. Deidara willingly let him; he knew he could trust Roshi, and possibly Roshi alone. The old, bearded man looked at Deidara with weary eyes.

"My, my, you're growing up so fast. I suppose some flowers bloom a little earlier than others, right?" Roshi said as he let Deidara's hands go.

"Roshi, you're not mad at me, are you, hm?" Deidara asked.

Roshi turned away from Deidara. "I have no idea why you'd think that. Now let's get a move on, Sundrop. By the way, what's your name day? I don't think Han ever told me."

Deidara began to walk along with Roshi, and said, "Han never asked for it, actually. It's May Fifth, hm."

"It's coming right up then," he said as his feet made a soft crunching noise in the grass. "How old are you gonna be?"

"Sixteen, hm," Deidara said with a sniffle. His cold seemed to be getting to him a bit.

"Aww, don't cry now, Sundrop. We'll be safe in bed soon," Roshi said; his voice had regained its cheeriness.

"It's not that, hm! I've got a cold from staying out in the rain," Deidara said with yet another sniff.

Roshi laughed, but didn't reply to Deidara's protest. The two kept walking for a little bit; partially through the forest, and towards midday they shifted to the road. Deidara grew restless from the anticipation of crossing the border, though Roshi seemed as cool as the moss he had slept on. When Deidara finally saw the large stone gate just meters away from him, he felt as if he would explode from the fear right there.

Roshi took notice of Deidara's terrified gaze, and placed a strong hand on his shoulder. "Easy now, Sundrop. It'll be alright, no one here will know who you are just yet," Roshi said in a low voice.

Slowly and steadily, Roshi guided Deidara down the last of the road to the gate ahead of them. The guards examined Deidara's headband, and saw Roshi alongside him. They seemed to know who Roshi was, so they nonchalantly waved them both along. Deidara's heart was beating so quickly that he felt the entire seal of the mouth on his chest would come undone, and he would fall apart where he stood. He huddled closer to Roshi as the two walked further, until Deidara's long blond hair blew in both of their faces from the strong gust of wind, forcing him to break away.

"Heh, welcome to Wind Country. Better put that hood up," Roshi said with a chuckle.

Deidara's face grew hot - either from fever or embarrassment - and he hastily covered his head with the deep green hood of his cloak. "How far away is _Hestia_ , hm?" he asked.

"Ah, we won't be reachin' _Hestia_ for a few weeks, so we'll probably stick around a jovial little merchant's town not too far from here. _Sundance_ , I think," Roshi said with a heave of his shoulders.

" _A few weeks_!" Deidara exclaimed.

Roshi gestured to the endless desert in the distance, and said, "Travel isn't easy for sandal-wearing mountaineers like us. Now give me a corner of that cloak of your's."

Roshi grabbed an edge of Deidara's cloak and wrapped it around his own head, binding the two close together. They walked shoulder-to-shoulder until the strong winds picked up as they reached the real start of the desert.

Dust and sand kicked up in the gale-force wind that stirred around them as they treaded further into the country, and before long even the simple act of walking was hard to do. Between the growing sand dunes and the forceful wind, Deidara nearly fell every five minutes. Thankfully Roshi was around to steady him.

"Look alive, Sundrop. Don't want you becoming a snack for the vultures!" Roshi called out so Deidara could hear him over the current.

Deidara moaned in protest; he was too tired to give a proper response, and too focused on what lied ahead of him to dwell on it too long. His feet tripped over themselves as Roshi guided the tired boy through the desert for what felt like hours, until at last the sky began to darken and the air became cooler. The Moon playfully peeked out from a massive rock formation, highlighting the night sky that was now filled with stars. At the very least, the sky itself would always be the same no matter where he went.

Deidara grew impatient to reach _Sundance_ after another hour of quietly walking. He looked around for a sign of a town anywhere in the distance, but had no such luck. His lips formed a pout, but kept his silence to maintain peaceful relations with the one man he trusted.

Roshi seemed to have taken notice of Deidara's continued silence during their journey, and softly said, "I know we've been at it all day, kiddo. Don't worry, we'll be at _Sundance_ within the hour. It's not a very big town, just a very busy one."

Deidara nodded along, too far gone to do much else aside from continuing to put one foot in front of the other, occasionally stretching out to use Roshi as support. His eyes opened and closed slowly as he faded in and out of consciousness. It took him by surprise when in between his dozing he saw the flicker of a dim golden light only a few hundred feet in the distance.

His body nearly slumped from relief, but Roshi kept him steady. "Best keep close to me, Sundrop. This town's merchants export very _special_ types of goods, depending on who you go to," Roshi whispered into Deidara's ear. "I personally prefer some over others, though."

"Like what, hm?" Deidara asked, letting out a loud yawn.

"Booze, spices, exotic goods, animals, and sometimes even a whore or two," Roshi listed off, "But most importantly, _booze_."

 _Whore_. Deidara shuddered at the word, as it had slowly become a term he despised. He loathed to be called it as he loathed to be called ordinary or talentless. To him it was slander; it stung his ears to hear it, and filled him with an intense rage that burned as hot as the sun itself. Deidara knew that Roshi did not think of him that way, but he would vanish into the winds the moment he saw Roshi bring home a whore to exploit if such a thing ever happened.

It wasn't long before Deidara and Roshi stepped onto the old brick pavement of _Sunshade._ Even though it was late Deidara could still hear bars full of rowdy patrons, as well as the giggles of men and women alike from ornate buildings that were illuminated by red lanterns. The whole town was soaked in golden and red hues, as if to further instate that this was a town of vice. Even the clear white lights that hung from the banners above glowed as softly as a pale-skinned maiden, kind, warm, and inviting.

The two reached an inn before long, a building of dark cherry wood adorned with amber lights and tapestries. The inside displayed jade sculptures, twin jasper lion statues, and porcelain eggs kept on gold trays. Even the teacups that hung behind the counter were fully embellished, and were the finest china Deidara had ever seen.

From the masterfully upholstered seats with dragons and tigers embroidered on their backs, to the silken cushions with delicate tassels and flowers intricately sewn into them, and fine paintings of old kings and rugs woven from rich red yarn that decorated the walls and floor, Deidara could only stare in awe at what had been the most beautiful place he had ever been inside. Here Deidara had thought that nothing could beat the majesty of Onoki's homestead, yet he was happily proven wrong. He could not imagine anything more elegant than where he stood right in this moment.

Roshi rang a golden bell left near the guest list, and a man in an emerald green robe emerged from a door off to the side. He raised his arms when he saw Roshi, and a gap-toothed smile broke out in his face when he spoke, "Ah, Roshi of the Stones! So very good see you again!"

Roshi smiled warmly with his arms outstretched as well, and said, "Iyaya of _Sundance_ , it's been too long! You look like you've lost fifty pounds since I've seen you last!"

Iyaya sighed, "Ahh, without Master Argento to shower us with coin, food is much more scarce than before."

 _Looks like he did them all a favor_ Deidara thought, as the man he saw looked to be a perfectly normal weight. Roshi however looked deeply sympathetic to this man's plight. But he seemed to be fine with Deidara going hungry up in the mountains for months on end? The revelation caused the mouths on Deidara's hands twitch for a brief moment, their tongues smacking against the teeth that lined the orifices.

Roshi placed a decently-sized bag of coins onto the counter, and said, "Well then, allow me and my nephew to alleviate your hunger for a while. Will this be enough to cover a couple of weeks?"

Iyaya's eyes lit up as he examined the bag, and nodded his head furiously, "Yes, yes, that is perfect! Perfectly acceptable! You and the, erm... boy... may stay here for half of a moon, yes!"

Roshi then slid a slightly smaller bag of coins over to Iyaya, and whispered, "I'd like to buy my nephew's safety too, if that's alright. To make sure no one tries to grab him."

Iyaya nodded much more subtly this time, and said, "Yes, yes. The boy shall be unharmed. I will see to it myself that the boy is escorted by bodyguards on his outings."

Deidara couldn't quite tell if it was his exhaustion or the dim lighting playing tricks on him, but he could almost make out Iyaya giving him a grin that did not seem normal. The man gave Deidara a bad vibe, but if Roshi knew him then he _must_ have been trustworthy, right?

As Roshi led Deidara up the ornate staircase to the room they would be staying in, the queasy feeling Iyaya's grin gave him did not disperse. Even as Deidara lay down in the feather down bed he kept a kunai knife clutched in his hands, and his little orifices dutifully clamped onto the handle as well.

Within seconds, Deidara gave in to his long-awaited rest.

 **-and-and-and-and-and _-_**

 _For Sasori, a trek through Wind Country was as simple as breathing - if he still had to do that._

The sun rose over the wasteland's horizon, but inside Hiruko, Sasori was shielded from the blindingly bright sand that reflected the sun's harsh rays. Within his shell, Sasori was able to glide above the sand to easily traverse the rough terrain.

It wouldn't be too long before he reached the checkpoint to Earth Country, and he knew that the boy couldn't have made it very far from there. The sandstorms were rather unforgiving in the North, which made it the perfect hideout for rapists and thieves. It was no place a young person would want to be for too long.

There was one stop he intended to make, however. It was customary for him to do so every time he happened to cross the site, as this particular route happened to do. Marked by a worn signpost that led to nowhere, and a tiny pile of rocks decorated with a handful of sticks, the grave of Sasori's first was kept. He needed to leave another rose; the last one should have wilted or been blown away by now.

Sasori also wanted to tell him of the boy to get a bit of closure. He remembered how badly he had wanted children; if only a rose had rested between Sasori's legs rather than the grave marker, then maybe things would have ended differently.

That was not his concern any longer, though. As he approached the marker for his dearest departed, he climbed out of Hiruko to pay his respects - it wouldn't do to not visit him as someone he did not remember.

" _Komushi_ ," he began, kneeling down to the tiny pile of stones, "it's Sasori. I wanted to see you before I brought home a child to care for. I can't say for sure if he's got dark skin, brown eyes...red hair... but I'll be raising him until he's older. I don't believe I'm cut out for it personally, but everyone else seems to think I'll do just fine."

"I'll try to not lose my temper, but I... well, you already know what can happen if one becomes too lenient, don't you?" Sasori gazed up at the spot where he would place a new rose, and wondered when it would blow away in the wind to live with all the others he placed here over the years.

"Love brings the death of duty, as you know..." Sasori muttered as he gently placed a single red rose upon the pile of stone. A few more moments passed before he collected himself off the ground and climbed back into Hiruko to continue with the end of his journey.

" _As I know_."

He found himself surrounded by the sounds of winds bellowing outside of his shell; a familiar noise, and one that meant he was home. Yet he did not belong here anymore. His home was in the River Country, living amongst decaying plants in a house fit for kindling. The moment he could return to his solitude - regardless of if he chose to bring home this boy or not - could not come soon enough for the petite homebody.

Sasori trudged through the desert for some time, until suddenly there was the hard thud of a foot on Hiruko's shell just above Sasori's head. He stopped, uttering curses of a deprave origin, and flung open the latch of Hiruko with a scroll in-hand. The shadowy figure that had stupidly bumped into him flailed about in fear before the tiny man's rage.

Sasori lowered his scroll after he got a good look at the attacker. Perplexed, he asked the fool, "Tobi? What brings you all the way out here?"

"Master Sasori! Please forgive me! I was trying to get your attention, but-but-but-" Tobi stammered.

Ever the grand buffoon, Tobi wailed in his usual frantic fashion. Sasori wondered if their leader had kept him around out of pity, or simply to provide free entertainment. Though sometimes Sasori questioned if this was all just a farce, he had proven nothing but his lack of intelligence.

"What is it you want? I'm kind of running on a schedule here," Sasori said, gesturing to the North.

"Uh, oh yeah, I remembered! Our leader has spotted the kid you were gonna go recruit with one of our targets, they were heading to some place called _Sundance_ ," Tobi said, his voice filled with pep and enthusiasm.

Sasori groaned. "Gods in the damn almighty heavens, why!? Not the damned brothel town!"

"It looks like they also sell spices," Tobi chimed in. Sasori threw his head back in maddened exasperation at that stupid response.

His lip tightened, but he responded coolly, "I really do have to go now. Tell the leader if he wants to be helpful, send some real backup. Not some lollipop-faced moron who can't finish his sentences."

With that, Sasori closed the shell of Hiruko once more, and shuffled away with great haste. This boy better have been worth the trouble, because now Kabuto wasn't the only one betting his life on him - he now was betting his own to save a boy he had never met from Argento's vile town of lust.

 **-and-and-and-and-and-**

 _"Good morning, My Sunshine. Your Prince is visiting you in your chamber. Maybe if I plant a kiss upon your lips then My Sunshine will awake?"_

Deidara's eyes shot open, frantically darting around the room to search for His Prince who he heard call out to him. When he found nothing, he sunk back into the plush bed to rest even longer. It was so very warm that it was almost as if he were being held in the arms of someone while he laid, and he never wanted to get up again.

Though when Deidara groped around for the sheets below to pull over himself, he touched an arm that _definitely_ wasn't there when he fell asleep last night. He turned around, and though he was greeted with the grinning face of His Prince, Deidara couldn't help but yell in fright at the man that had held him while he slept.

Deidara kicked his feet about until His Prince finally relented and released him from the embrace, causing Deidara to roll off the bed and onto a cushion below. Deidara glared up at His Prince with angry eyes and a mouthful of feathers.

His Prince chuckled, "My sweet little Sunshine arises."

"Don't ever do that again, hm! You scared me half to death!" Deidara yelled as he furiously spat out the feathers from his tumble.

His Prince seemed unfazed by Deidara's anger entirely, and calmly said, "My apologies, Sunshine. I only followed you to this shady little town to make sure you weren't in any danger. And much to no one's surprise, you've befriended yet _another_ Jinchuriki! How _do_ you do it? Must be exhausting."

Deidara worriedly looked around for Roshi, though he couldn't find him in the room. He turned to His Prince, and asked, "Did you kill him too, hm?"

"Nah, if I work too quickly people will know something's up. But how have you been? It must be nice to be the most popular person in town right now," His Prince said with a smirk.

"What do you mean, hm?" Deidara asked.

"Ah, that's right. My Sleeping Beauty has been in bed for two whole days! That explains the rumors going around about the fairy tale coming to life in this hotel," His Prince said as he sat up in the bed, fully donned in silks of the Wind Country that made him look like a real prince.

"Two whole-" Deidara shook his head, then started again, "Where is Roshi right now, hm?"

His Prince shrugged, "Out shopping, last time I checked. Every time he goes out that slimy innkeeper holds a tiny auction for you, and tries to have your Jinchuriki pal outbid. I guess blonds go for a fair amount of coin around here."

"Well, I hope they like being disappointed - and blown up, hm. This isn't like before, I'm not helpless. I'll be on a bird out of here before the hour's up!" Deidara said proudly as he rose to his feet, hands placed firmly on his hips.

His Prince looked away suddenly, and said, "Be that as it may, you reek, your hair's a mess, and you're stark naked. Can My Sunshine please put on some clothes after he bathes?"

Deidara's face grew hot with embarrassment, and his eyes widened and his nostrils flared when he looked down at himself. It took all he had to refrain from squealing from the realization of what had just transpired. Without another word Deidara collected what little dignity he could, and closed the door to the gilded washroom to draw a scalding-hot bath for himself in the marble tub. Maybe if he was lucky he could cleanse his mind along with as his body.

Deidara scrubbed himself down with soaps that smelled of lavender, and shampoo with fragrances of vanilla and orange blossom. Though he took notice of a small vial of oil that smelled like cinnamon and spices, he did not quite know what it was for. He doused himself in a milky substance that smelled so strongly of honey that it erased all odor from him at last, and when the dirt and grime had been excavated from his body he saw it fit to leave the tub to dry himself.

As Deidara combed through his long hair while wrapped in soft towels from a nearby rack, His Prince knocked on the door. Deidara sighed, he couldn't stay upset at him any longer, so he called out, "Come in, I'm decent."

The door opened slightly, and His Prince stuck his head in. He smiled to Deidara, and said, "Someone cleans up nicely."

"Uh, thanks, I guess. Can you help me find my ribbon, hm? I need to keep it around me, I think it's cursed," Deidara said as he focused on detangling his locks.

"I'll try, Sunshine. Hey, why don't I pick out something for you to wear? I want My Sunshine to look pretty when he's out on the town with me," His Prince said, examining the vial of oil by the tub.

Deidara's eyes lit up at his words, and he turned around to thank His Prince, though he was not there any longer. Before Deidara could go to the bedroom to find him, he was grabbed gently by his waist and held in place. Large hands dabbed the vial of oil twice on his collar bone, then lowered the towel to touch the vial once to his navel, and then once just above his manhood. His Prince lifted Deidara's face, and looked down at him with his dark eyes. Then without a word between them, he dabbed the vial a final time just under his bottom lip.

His Prince pulled away before Deidara could speak and began rummaging through the basket of clothes by the carved door. He came back holding a golden garb with no sleeves to speak of - befitting of the hot climate of this land - as well as a deep blue sash that was embroidered with white blossoms to tie around his waist. The garb cut off at his calves, so His Prince decided to simply go full force with the Wind Country style and fashioned him with sandals that were a better fit for travel in the desert.

After Deidara had dressed himself in the outfit selected for him, he looked himself over in the mirror. _New country, new me_ he thought, and when he saw the makeup on the blue tile counter he smirked to himself as he lined his eyes with black ink - then pocketed the pen in his sash. Some things would change, but others would always stay the same.

His Prince came up to him and ran a comb through his hair, greatly parting it off to the left side of his head so his bangs hung over the left side of his face. Deidara examined his work for a moment, then smiled and gave his nod of approval. He tied the seafoam ribbon around his wrist to keep his hair loose, as he felt no need to tie his hair back. No restrictions, no limits, and even the skies themselves were his.

Deidara descended the staircase with His Prince's arm around his shoulder, passing by a stunned Iyaya on the way out. He sheepishly waved to them, as did several old men gathered around the counter. Deidara flashed a toothy grin; what fools they were to assume that they could treat him like property!

"Stay close to me, My Sunshine. You seem to be a magnet for eyes," His Prince whispered in his ear as they left the inn. Deidara could scantly help the smile that broke across his face at those words.

Upon setting foot onto the main street of _Sundance,_ Deidara caught the scent of cloves, cumin, honey and nutmeg that wafted through the air. The marketplace was bustling with activity; livestock were traded from person to person, while liquor and mead were passed around booths of merchants who spoke the language in a distinct dialect. It was so different from the Stone Village that Deidara couldn't imagine that he had gone his entire life without a place such as this.

From out of the corner of his eye, Deidara caught a glimpse of a soft, familiar hue. _Paintings_! He thought as his heart went aflutter. He turned around to show His Prince the bright canvases that painted women, lions and snakes covered within their golden frames. He tugged on his sleeve, trying to coax him to turn around and look at the works of art that hung above them. His Prince turned when Deidara finally came to a full halt to look around the gallery.

"Look, look, isn't it beautiful, hm?" Deidara exclaimed, gesturing to the paintings and sculptures along the walls.

His Prince snorted. "Looks nice, I guess. I'd rather be buying My Sunshine some jewelry instead of ogling at a painting of some dead woman, though."

Just then a merchant pushed His Prince aside to wedge between him and Deidara. His Prince grunted and stepped out of the way for the portly man to pass through, and let him get up close to Deidara's face. Deidara shot a look of concern to him, but he seemed nonplussed by the whole ordeal. Deidara supposed a simple art dealer wasn't too much of a threat.

He smiled with a painted clay bowl in his hands, and said, "Excuse me, little golden one! You seem to have quite an eye for art, and such fine taste you have to instinctively stop at my booth! Can I interest you in one of my cookware sets? You may cook for your betrothal in elegance and style, and such good quality shall spark awe in your future in-laws as well."

Deidara backed away, shaking his head, "I'm sorry, no thank you. I can make my own bowls myself."

The portly man spat, then shuffled back to his booth. His Prince quickly regrouped with Deidara, and placed an arm tightly around his shoulder as he led him further down the street.

After a short silence, His Prince spoke up. "You make clay pots?"

"Yeah, I do. Among...other things..." Deidara said softly, thinking back to the birds that were born and flew from his own hands.

"Is that why you asked me for clay?" His Prince said with a chuckle.

Deidara gave a light sneeze, still somewhat under the weather. It wasn't every day someone asked about his art and how he loved it so. This Prince of his truly was special; to care about Deidara in a way that only his brother had what felt like an eternity ago.

The two walked until they reached the fountain square in the center of the town. Deidara sat on the edge of the fountain while His Prince gazed out to the open desert far off into the distance. He sighed, completely at peace with the moment he was in. Deidara wondered if it would be too late to beg the earth Mother to let him stay in _Sundance_ with His Prince forever.

As if he could read his thoughts, His Prince spoke. "You'll need to leave here soon. You can't keep traveling with the Jinchuriki - take it from the guy who wants to kill him - he might not be a good choice for a companion."

Deidara scoffed. "I'm happy here, hmph! Besides, I don't have any money even if I wanted to leave."

"You said you're an artist, right? How about taking on some commissions?" he suggested, gesturing back to the art galleries.

"My art is far too noble to sell among these filthy streets!" Deidara haughtily said, his posture defiant.

His Prince laughed. "I never said the commissions had to be selling pottery, you silly goose."

Flustered, Deidara looked to His Prince to understand what he thought was so funny. The dark-haired man of his heart gazed onward to a large sign that was glued to a nearby wall. Deidara didn't know what the thing said, only that a picture of a rotund older man with oiled black hair and golden adornments was featured with what appeared to be a large sum of numbers under him.

"Is he a fugitive, hm?" Deidara quietly asked His Prince.

His Prince smirked. "His name is Argento, and it looks like there's a two-hundred-million Ryo bounty on his head. This was likely put up by a rival slaver of course, so you might want to be wary about accepting it."

"Two-hundred-million Ryo to kill this man, hm?" he muttered.

"Yes, My Sunshine," His Prince reaffirmed.

Deidara, too focused on the picture of Argento ahead of him, didn't notice the hooded figure behind him and His Prince. The latter did, however. Once he saw the sparkle of large brown eyes, the dark-haired man lowered his head with a deferring smile and stepped away from the distracted teen as quietly as possible.

Deidara rose from his seat, only to find that His Prince had once again vanished. Panicked, he looked around for any sign of him at all, but it was to no avail. His Prince had vanished once again, leaving Deidara alone in a city full of people he did not know and one man he could not stay with.

It wasn't long before he felt the light touch of a remarkably cold, hard hand on his own. With a gasp he turned his head to face the stranger who's chocolate eyes and bright-red hair caused Deidara's heartbeat to slow from dread.

"Then that's two-hundred-million reasons to try, isn't it?" the red-haired man said with a bemused smile.

For once, Deidara could not find it in him to respond. He had begun to regret going out with His Prince today.

 **-and-and-and-and-and-**


	7. A Hallowed Echo

_Something filled Deidara with pure ecstasy._

 _It seemed that there was not much time left._

 _He was a ticking time bomb, ready to wreak havoc upon a kingdom of ruin and ashes._

The red-haired man stared down at Deidara, his hand lightly touching the boy's own. On the inside Deidara seethed; he wasn't prepared to fight this man, not to mention the crowd of innocents that surrounded them in the fountain square. It was a few degrees too hot for Deidara's taste as well, worsening the remnants of his fever.

"What's wrong? Never seen a suspicious hooded figure before?"

The humor did little to placate Deidara, but a reply never made it past his lips. With a stunned, simple look about him, he continued to stare up at the smirking man. He must have quite enjoyed hearing his own jape from the simper that delicately decorated his lips.

"Do you speak as well as you read?" he snapped, quickly retracting his hand.

Deidara's lips parted at last. "What is _that_ supposed to imply, hm?"

"I just wanted to make sure I wasn't talking with an invalid," he spat back.

The anger radiated from his eyes, yet his face never lost its pale complexion. The way he looked rang peculiar in Deidara's mind; even in the most pleasant weather one would be subject to a reddened face back home, so it should have worked the same in a place as hot as _Sundance_. There was something very, very wrong with this man, though he supposed the fact that he could create fire from out of nowhere was reason enough to believe that.

"D-don't you have something better to do, hm?" Deidara said with a stutter.

The red-haired man looked around with a mockingly confused look on his face, then turned back to Deidara. "Oh no! I almost forgot, there was some artist I was supposed to meet right about now! It couldn't be you, though. I was informed he was of average intelligence, not a dimwitted gutter rat."

"Alright, I've had enough!" Deidara yelled, bolting up from his seat with his arms thrown in the air. "I have no time for your shit! Better company awaits me elsewhere, hmph!"

"Ohh, so he _does_ speak the proper tongue," he said with a smirk. "Tell me, is this company you seek a professional assassin? Because I can do the work far more efficiently - and much, much cheaper."

Deidara pouted, and said, "He's My Prince, that's all. I'll find him eventually, hm."

"Astounding. In the meantime, you were talking about assassinating that man in the poster. That one?" he said, gesturing to the poster beyond them. "His name is Argento. He's one of the master merchants around the Northern Sands, and let me tell you right now that you will _not_ be able to pull off killing him."

"Then I die trying!" Deidara said, taking a defiant stance.

"Then die trying with a few more years of experience under your belt, would you?" he said, his brown eyes filled with fire.

"Oh, I'll live to a hundred and beyond once I'm rid of you, you monster!" Deidara spat. He hadn't intended to get so heated, yet he found himself unable to refrain from unleashing his rage that had built up for over half a year.

Stunned, the red-haired man took a step backward. The look of puzzlement he wore lent the idea to Deidara that he didn't remember him, and who would have? By all rights, he should be dead. It wasn't per the norm that a boy would be set ablaze next to a prime kindling source, then emerge from the ashes like a phoenix being reborn.

The man recovered from his brief shock and gazed down at Deidara skeptically, then said, "I don't believe I've met you before. May I ask for your name?"

"You can. My name is Deidara. I want you to remember my name, hm!" Deidara said proudly, not fully realizing what a gift the man's ignorance was.

"Sasori. Charmed. Now come with me quietly, or I'll _make_ you leave quietly," he said with a half-smile.

Deidara recoiled abruptly, his knuckles scraping across the fountain's edge. "No, I'm not coming with you! Go harass someone else, hmph!"

Sasori swiftly grabbed Deidara by his wrist, but he furrowed his brow when he took notice of the mouth on his left hand that gurgled frantically. Hesitantly, he poked the little pink tongue, which caused both the orifice and Deidara to quiver. Sasori examined both of his hands for a brief moment, occasionally shifting his gaze up to Deidara with a look of dubious curiosity.

"Born, or acquired?" Sasori asked with a low voice.

"Acquired. Now may I please go, hm?"

"That means you can't breed this then. A shame, really. I wonder why Orochimaru hasn't looked for a way to grab this for himself yet. Seems right up his alley," Sasori mused, not talking to anybody in particular.

"If you don't let me go, I'm gonna yell!" Deidara said in a panic, struggling to break free of his grip.

"You're not making a good case for yourself to be let go. In fact, you're only making yourself sound more desirable with every little protest," Sasori said, chuckling.

Deidara's breathing grew erratic, while little whines and moans of protest escaped his lips in lieu of words as Sasori's grip on him tightened. His hand mouths clamped at something to grab onto, but couldn't find a target. Lifeless eyes looked into his own; his blue orbs were full of life, hope, and little understanding of what true pain was like. The eyes that met his own, however, were cold, and had long given up any semblance of hope - they were eyes that had seen far too much to be so blind.

"Please, my uncle, he'll-"

"No, he won't," Sasori said, cutting him off.

"I didn't even say any-"

"I don't care, and he'll stop caring eventually too. Now come."

" _Please_!"

It was useless, though. Sasori had a resilience that was built up from years of practice with these sort of things, and Deidara was a meek, underfed boy from a secluded mountain. Onlookers probably would believe Sasori over Deidara if he chose to make a scene, with his well-kept hair and clean skin. Meanwhile, Deidara was already lightly-tanned from some time in the sun, his face, legs, and arms were smudged with dirt, and he had an unruly mane of hair that wildly blew about in the wind.

His panic quickly turned to a resigned dread of the inevitable as Deidara relaxed his body to let Sasori drag him off to wherever he intended to go. Sasori's face grew placid, and almost kind as he saw Deidara lower his head in defeat. He examined his new partner, noting that he was not armed in the least - not even a kunai was hidden among his garb.

 _Some exceptional kid we have right here_ Sasori thought to himself. His lips pursed as he mulled over what to do about the unarmed civilian he was in the process of kidnapping.

"I was informed you could fight," Sasori said quietly.

"Oh yeah, that. I can, but I didn't think to bring anything to protect myself on a walk," Deidara said with a heave of his shoulders.

" _Naive_ ," Sasori rolled his eyes. "What kind of shinobi waltzes around a town that specializes in prostitution and alcohol without even so much as a kunai to protect themselves?"

Deidara stuttered, his face hot with embarrassment. "I-I do have all that stuff! It's all in my room where I've been staying! If you insist on kidnapping me for my amazing, super unique, totally artistic powers then you'll need to take me back there to fetch my gear, hmph!"

Sasori smirked. "Oh, that's not a problem. We can always get you new gear once we're settled in."

"But-but- agh! My clay! Don't you hear me, hm? I need to get my _clay_ from that room, The Mother take your worthless kunai!" Deidara said in a huff.

Other people had started to stare, causing Sasori to withdraw away from the crowd with Deidara in tow. The little one struggled further still, desperate to be released from Sasori's firm grasp of his wrist. The puzzled group of people began to disperse once Sasori had fully taken Deidara into an alley behind what appeared to be a tavern, where the redhead removed his cloak and wrapped it around the smaller boy.

"Ah, um, thank you. But why did you let me go just now, hm?" Deidara asked as he traced his fingers over the cloak.

"Because back here I can kill you if you get too rowdy, and no one will bother us," Sasori said almost tauntingly.

Deidara almost whined, but the look in Sasori's eyes told him enough. There was little chance of him escaping now, and even if he did try to call for Roshi he would likely be dead by the time he arrived. _Or worse_. Sometimes his older brother had said that to him, that he may be killed, _or worse_. Deidara didn't know what could be worse than being killed, but the days when he could have asked his brother what he had meant by that had come to pass.

If his brother had been killed, was what had become of Deidara worse? Was this doomed to be his fate? When he looked into the bored eyes of Sasori, he couldn't know for sure if he was overthinking things.

"Argento - that was his name, wasn't it?" Sasori said, snapping Deidara out of his train of thought.

Deidara nodded. "Yeah. I wanted to kill him for the money, but I guess I won't be getting that chance."

Sasori cocked his head. "When did I outright forbid you to try? I only suggested you train a little before so you stood a fighting chance. Without _me_ , that is."

"Oh? And what could you possibly do to help me kill a ' _Master Merchant_ ', hm?" Deidara asked, his words dripping with sarcasm as his fingers made air quotes at the words "Master Merchant".

"Poison him without anyone being able to detect it - or trace it back to us. I'll even let you keep all the money too, since I'm quite comfortable myself," Sasori said with a smile. It seemed Deidara had found a subject that Sasori was quite interested in, judging from the way his lifeless eyes lit up when he spoke of it.

"You'd really do that for me?" Deidara asked, but then furiously shook his head. "No, Argento's palace will burn by my own art. No need for anyone else's help, hm."

"Art?" Sasori said, his voice rife with enthusiasm.

Deidara's heart beat faster still from his interest. "The clay I use can be molded into creatures, objects, anything. And once I have it near my target - _boom_! They burst into flames in an explosion that my little creatures cause! It's really quite beautiful once you see it for yourself."

Sasori scrunched his nose, withholding a remark of disgust. "I see. So you want to kill Argento by setting his manor on fire, including any slaves, whores, or other innocents that may be inside?"

"Oh!" Deidara paused, taken aback by the point Sasori had made. "I didn't even think about that. I'm sure we can lure Argento away from them, right, hm?"

Sasori pointed toward where the wanted poster was. "Argento has been in hiding, and he's always heavily guarded within his home. The other slavers in the area have started to push back his hold on _Sundance_ , and it's finally gotten to the point where he fears for his life. There is _no way_ you'll be able to wrangle him away from his guards."

"So what do you suggest I do, hm?" Deidara asked.

"Aside from coming quietly with me, right?" Sasori asked, to which Deidara nodded. "Very well. I suggest you take up my offer of help. I don't extend my services very often anymore, but being that my new partner is a greenhorn I suppose a little charity work is acceptable."

"New _partner_?" Deidara asked with widened eyes.

"Why else do you think I would keep trying to get you to come with me? Look, it's no offense meant to you, but if it weren't for your Kinjutsu I would have given up trying to grab you when you first resisted me. You're not worth the trouble otherwise."

Deidara fell silent, unsure of how to reply to that. It seemed he wasn't worth much, as all of the men he had met in this past year made the point of telling him so, save for Roshi and Han. Yet these men couldn't seem to find some other "worthless" boy to latch onto in his stead. When that thought ran through his mind, Deidara lowered his head to conceal his smirk.

"Deidara... That's your name, right? Look up, and tell me what you want to do," Sasori said, prompting Deidara to snap his head back up.

"I want to..." Deidara's voice trailed off. _I want to go home_ was what he wanted to say, but "home" no longer existed. In its stead rested a pile of ashes and charred memories of a family that had shattered long ago. "Home" was wherever Roshi took him, and "home" was whatever he was allowed to have as a place to rest for the night.

The dusty streets of _Sundance_ , however bright and lively they may be, were not where Deidara belonged. He was meant to be up high in the mountains, far away from the follies of the rest of the world. He yearned to walk in the rich evergreen and pinewood forests around the mountain valley with his brother again, but even his dreams would not give him such comfort. He longed for the vivid azure skies of midday, where his mother had pointed to the geese flying back home from their summer travels. His father would paint the fowls as they preened in gaggles around their home, and Deidara was comfortably in his mother's arms as his brother silently read a book that he had always promised to teach Deidara to read someday.

Yet all he saw was bright auburn and tawny browns and gold. There was nothing here he could latch onto in memory of his true home, but there was a slight chance to return one day. Perhaps Deidara would not return to Earth Country until he was twenty, fifty, or a hobbling eighty-year-old man. If his clay were here with him right now, he would have seen it fit to mount a bird right there in the alleyway and fly off into the skies forever. Let the Earth Mother decide his fate rather than some smug little redhead.

Deidara drew in a deep breath, and said, "I would like your assistance in the bounty hunt, hm."

Sasori seemed unamused. "When it's all said and done, you are to follow me back to my headquarters. No complaints, comments, or questions. Understood?"

Deidara grew pensive for a moment, then said, "Understood. And thank you, Mister Sasori."

" _Please_ don't call me that, it makes me sound old," Sasori said with a groan.

"Um... _Master_ Sasori... is that better, hm?" Deidara asked.

Sasori sighed. "Yeah, that'll do fine. Come on then, kiddo, let's go murder this man and collect the bounty so we can get home as soon as possible."

Deidara smiled. "Yes, Master Sasori, _of course_."

As the two returned to the bustling afternoon streets of _Sundance_ , Deidara could only pray in silence that Sasori had not seen him cross his fingers behind his back. He would let Sasori follow him to assist with the bounty, but once he had the chance he would take off into the unknown - hopefully never to be heard from again.

 **-and-and-and-and-and-**

 _The sun was so much warmer in the Wind Country that even as gusts kicked up dirt and the skirts of maidens the powerful gales did little to alleviate the overwhelming heat. Deidara had been walking all morning - with two different men, mind - and he didn't know how much longer he could take the unforgiving climate._

Sasori turned back to Deidara, who had been leading the way for the duo for the first thirty minutes of their mission. The pained look on Deidara's face told Sasori all he needed to know about his new partner's opinion of the desert. It was true; even the shade of the taller buildings was only a brief shield from the sun. Not to mention that summer was not far off, so it would only get more unbearable in the next couple of months.

"Stay with me now, Deidara. No one will help you if you faint," Sasori said with a smile that mocked him. Even though Deidara knew it was true; every man, woman, and child in _Sundance_ was too caught up in their own lives to help him. Their shops needed keeping, their bakeries needed baking, and the tailors need not let their hands stray from their delicate work. There was little room in the day for random goodwill here, it seemed.

"We'll need to stop at the inn I'm staying at to grab my things if we want to make things go more quickly," Deidara said, pointing to Iyaya's inn a few blocks from where they stood.

"Why would we want to do that?" Sasori asked, his gaze fixated on Deidara.

"Why? Why do you _think_ , hm?" Deidara retorted.

"I don't know," Sasori said with a shrug, leaning against an empty cart near the walkway for pedestrians. "I'm asking you. I want to know your reason."

"Because it'll be easier to grab things here while it's still quiet," Deidara said.

Sasori gave a single, firm nod. "Correct. Oh, that's right. I should mention that I'll be conducting an interview of my own while we hunt Argento. I just don't want to risk taking on a... less-than-worthy partner, despite what I've heard about you. No pressure."

"That's not a problem, hm," Deidara said through gritted teeth.

Sasori tapped his chin, a small smile on his lips. "So how would you escape if things go awry?"

They were at the door of the inn, but Sasori stood in between Deidara and his clay - and his escape plan. He swallowed a lump in his throat; Sasori's eyes would not leave him. It took all he had not to show a sign of fear, but he wanted nothing more than to have bolted down the hot paved road to the tavern Roshi was likely drinking in, crying for the help of his uncle.

Deidara reached for the door handle, but Sasori quickly held his arm between him and the entrance. "Answer the question, little brat."

"I don't know. Tunnels?" Deidara asked, trying his hardest to conceal his true intent.

"The _Sunshade_ Catacombs _are_ an option, yes. Not my first pick, but they're good for hiding in the shadows. I hope that we're the only ones doing so today, I guess," Sasori said with a nonchalant shrug.

With that, Sasori opened the door and gestured for Deidara to enter first, to which he happily obliged. The inn was as ornate and luscious as it had been the first night, but after Deidara had gotten word of what was truly going on behind the scenes the vibrant colors and jovial chatter amongst the streets almost seemed to invoke a feeling of melancholy in him.

Even the richly-colored, stained wooden steps with their carved railings and floral adornments of hibiscuses and tiger lilies practically had no effect on Deidara at this point. All he could think of was fire, blazes and the blood of his enemies. As he opened the door to his hotel room with Sasori who followed closely behind, the scent of vanilla, honey, and lavender that lingered from when he bathed with His Prince only a few feet away from him were still not enough to part Deidara with his dark thoughts.

Sasori walked ahead of him, and grabbed the pack that hung over the night table. he held it up to Deidara, who nodded eagerly. Sasori grabbed a few other tools that were scattered around, such as a few dozen kunai and a dusty scroll from a mahogany chair lined with blue silk off in the corner of the room. The redhead snapped his fingers, gesturing to a pile of green clothes that were left in a lump by Deidara's bed.

"Change into those, they're more suited for walking," Sasori commanded. Ever the obedient little one, Deidara immediately gathered the clothes into his arms and made his way into the washroom to change back into the attire Kabuto had so kindly provided for him.

As Deidara pulled the green coat over his mesh shirt, Sasori gave a single, brief knock on the door. The blond hurriedly grabbed the coat's ends together to makeshift a tie until he had his clay pack safely with him again. Deidara looked over his shoulder to see his reflection in the mirror; his hair was a tragic sight. It was matted, windblown, and already a tad dirty from the time he was outside. He looked like a common beggar rather than the king he had felt like when had he left this morning.

"Just a moment!" Deidara called out. The words must have fallen on deaf ears, for Sasori knocked once more with even more force.

"Grab anything you see that looks like it'll sell for a decent amount of money, brat!" Sasori called out from the other side of the door.

Deidara tied the cursed ribbon on his wrist around the bottom of his hair, leaving it in a loose ponytail. He looked far more the part of a Stone Village commoner than he ever had before, complete with the dirt smudges and matted locks. All it took was a little bit of grit and fire to turn him into the perfect image of a civilian.

Before he left the marble bathroom, Deidara made sure to grab the vial of oil that His Prince had used on him. Many other things were crammed into his pack, such as the soaps and rinses along with a few hand towels and a small jade egg that rested atop the blue granite counter. Deidara tousled his hair one final time, and with the room successfully pillaged by his own unweathered standards, he decided it was time to face Sasori once more.

There was a third, much more loud knock before Deidara could open the door. When he flung the carved mahogany door open, expecting the worst, he was faced with Sasori's calm stare. It didn't seem like he was mad at all, which left him more puzzled than if he had been seething. The peculiar way he could flip from one emotion to the next almost on cue, like a change of a record in a player, was what kept Deidara captivated by his self-appointed new partner.

Sasori dropped Deidara's clay pack into his limp arms without a word. Deidara lowered his head, his wild blond hair barely able to be constrained by the ribbon where it usually would have fallen over his face as he bowed. When he raised his head again, he saw that Sasori was making a similar face of disgust to the time when Deidara had foolishly asked him if he danced so many months ago. He felt his heart sink as Sasori continued to stare him down.

"Thank you, hm..." Deidara's lips quivered as he struggled out those words in a hoarse, weak voice. He didn't allow himself to look Sasori in the eye.

"Who taught you to bow to anyone who did even the smallest courtesy to you?" Sasori bluntly asked.

"I... it was my..." Deidara paused for a moment. He couldn't quite remember when he started doing that, but he certainly never bowed to thank his family very much - if he ever had. The more Deidara looked back on it, it seemed to him that he began the compulsion when Onoki took him in. He thought he was being spared, and that he should be grateful to be given the chance at a much better life than he had. What a foolish little boy he had been; any whimsy of childhood he had should have been buried in a pit along with his family that day.

Sasori heaved a sigh, putting his four fingers on his temple. "Look, I can get a good idea of _why_ you started doing it. Just... promise me you'll be more sparing with your kindness. Treat it like a bank from now on - there has to be a point when you can't loan any more goodwill to some people."

"Okay..." Deidara forced a reply out of himself.

He knew Sasori was right, and that if he wanted to be able to defend himself at all, he needed to be far more aggressive than he was now. Even if it was all a farce - an act to put on for the world around him - Deidara swore that his journey would not end until he saw it fit.

The duo left the room torn-apart, plundered and combed of all its valuables. Deidara even managed to scoop up the garb His Prince had fashioned for him and stuffed it along with the sandals into the utility side of his pack, praying the kunai would not tear it.

When it was time to leave, Deidara was grabbed by his wrist with the firm grip of the much older man. Sasori led the younger boy out of the inn of jasper and lies, and back to the streets with his attention focused purely on the road ahead of them, while Deidara trudged behind him with a sour look upon his face.

Sasori paid his pout no heed, however, as he was even more determined than Deidara was to finish this job quickly so he could withdraw back into the confines of the basement in his house in River Country. He didn't forget his intention of restoring the home to a more palatable condition for a human to live, so he needed to make some arrangements in the week's worth of time he allowed this mission as well. He didn't care to inform Deidara of the time crunch or reason, however - it was far more fun to keep little surprises like that to himself until it was convenient to deliver the message.

"Is there an entrance to the uh... those tunnels you mentioned earlier? They had a name."

Deidara tilted his head upwards to look at the sky, and the cogs turned in his mind as he played out all possible scenarios that could come up. He could poison him as well, maybe start a fire by pure accident with him in the building, or maybe he could even turn the bodyguards against him. The most important thing was that Deidara was able to fly away.

He closed his eyes and deeply exhaled as his right hand groped at the mound of stiffened clay in the pouch. The little mouth on his hand merrily went to work on molding a bird suitable for a mount, for he would need it soon, and the clay was much harder to work with than it was two days ago.

Sasori gestured to a nook in between two run-down buildings and guided Deidara to a wooden door that snapped in half the moment Sasori attempted to release the latch. As Sasori fussed about with the rest of the plank door, Deidara discretely opened the right side of his pouch under a rain gutter that dripped water from a washbasin in an apartment above them.

It was crucial to prepare for such an escape early, as his captor had already begun tugging him into the underground passage. "The Sundance Catacombs, that was the name. Now if you don't mind, I'd prefer a bit of silence while we walk through a tunnel full of murderers."

Deidara gave a silent nod, while he casually folded his clay about in his palm, as not to raise Sasori's justified suspicion. Thank the Earth Mother and the Stars that he had moistened it enough to easily use again.

 **-and-and-and-and-and-**

 _The damp air of the Catacombs made it harder for Deidara to breathe. Instead of the cool dampness of the stone houses back in his home country, the heat suffocated him relentlessly as he trotted along after Sasori._

"When...?" Deidara panted. Sasori turned around and silently placed a finger to his lips, ushering him to stay quiet.

A killer would have been a welcome sight for Deidara. Anything to put him out of his misery in these stuffy catacombs.

The red tiles were barely cool beneath Deidara's scantily-covered feet. He debated tossing his sandals a few paces back, but Sasori wasn't willing to stop for anything aside from a piss break or two - and even that was up for debate.

His jacket was little more than a cloth millstone around his torso, and his hair was drenched with sweat. He didn't know a fool mad enough to hide down here and wait for innocent folk to mug, and as they passed by the stone statues of lions and griffins that lined the halls in various stages of decay, he didn't think such a fool had existed here for a long time.

Suddenly, Deidara heard what sounded like squeals of young girls, plus the shrieking of an infant. They were awfully close from how they echoed throughout the halls.

When they approached a fork in the catacombs, Sasori swiftly pulled Deidara in the opposite hallway of the cries. Deidara didn't protest, for he knew with as loud as they were it would be suicide to stay in proximity to such loud noises in case a mugger did decide to turn up. Sasori pulled a kunai out of his coat sleeve, holding it out flat to Deidara.

He scrunched his nose, unsure of why he was handing the knife to him. He certainly had enough to get by for now, but as he gently set the kunai in his right hand he felt he had a grasp of what Sasori intended.

"If they're more than a minute away, come back to where I am. I won't leave this spot." Deidara was about to object, but Sasori held his hand in front of his face. "Don't argue with me, Deidara. You'll be putting them out of their misery, as well as keeping our route secure."

"It sounds like they have a baby," Deidara whispered.

Sasori gave him a blank stare. "So? A lot of people have babies. Many men and women would've given anything to have had such a merciful angel as you spare them a life of turmoil and pain."

Deidara could feel his hand tremble as he gripped the kunai as firmly as he was able. As if his body were on autopilot, his feet carried him down the hall and away from Sasori, towards the two women and the baby that he was tasked to silence.

The coos and cries softened as Deidara approached the two women. They were shrouded in cloaks, much like he was. A nearby torch illuminated their dark skin, which caused the golden jewelry that adorned their wrists and necks to glisten in the flickering light. The sapphires and amethyst gems sparkled as the light danced about the two girls, their silent gaze fixated on the boy with the knife clutched to his chest. They did not gasp when they saw him, nor cry or yell in fear. The stood silent, almost defiantly awaiting the moment he plunged his kunai into one of their hearts.

The slightly shorter girl, with green eyes and a face full of freckles, held the placated baby close to her while her eyes never left Deidara. "Did he send you here? The pig is quite quick today." The taller girl spat at Deidara's feet, her dark eyes filled with malice.

Deidara could barely keep a hold on the knife, but he weakly said, "I'm sorry..."

"You will take Argento back a message from us. We want to tell him-" the taller girl was interrupted by Deidara letting out an audible gasp. He dropped the knife to his feet, for he knew now that there was no need for it. The two girls looked confused momentarily, but remained quiet. Deidara gathered his composure, then took a deep breath to calm himself. It wouldn't do to get over-excited.

"I don't want to kill you. I'm sorry for frightening you," Deidara said as he bowed his head to show his deference. To hell with Sasori's advice to be less respectful; respect was likely the reason he was still alive.

"You are a confusing one, boy," the shorter girl said.

"What I mean is that it's Argento I'm after. You girls know him?" Deidara asked, his eyes bright with enthusiasm.

"What did he do to you? Kill mama? Rape sister? Why is he worth killing to you?" the dark-eyed girl asked.

Deidara eyed the baby in the smaller girl's arms, quietly sleeping amid the discourse. "Is that where he came from? Argento?" Deidara gestured to the bundle in the girl's arms.

She lowered her head, holding her child ever closer. "I am shamed now. No man will take me, only slavers."

Deidara watched her face grow weary and sullen, a look he surely wore himself many a time in a life that felt like a dream now more than reality. If he could escape it, why not them? Why not every slave in _Sundance_? Why not every slave in Wind Country? What was stopping him from burning every slaver in the damned world alive right this very minute?

His enraged trail of thoughts was stopped when he looked down to the kunai at his feet. It was only Sasori who intended to stop him, to capture him, to enslave him. There was only authority that he wished to answer to, and he would see it every day in the mirror. He was his own master, and his own God who held his personal set of commandments. And for Deidara, the first rule he lived by would always be that _all he deemed evil must burn_.

Deidara held out his hand, at an angle of course, as not to frighten the girls. "Come with me," he said, his face serene despite the thoughts of fire. "I want to destroy all of the slavers in the world, and it's Argento's time now. You may go wherever you like after, I'll make sure you have plenty of money. You may follow me or leave, and I will not fault you."

"You speak sweetly, but we are just chambermaids. We are no warriors," the taller girl said after a long pause, her expression softened.

"I need chambermaids every bit as much as warriors. Unless you want to leave, of course," Deidara said.

"Forgive me, but you don't seem like a conqueror. You look but a boy, and I see no army behind you," the green-eyed girl said.

Deidara's face grew red from embarrassment, "Building an army takes time, you know."

"And so does living. I suppose if you wanted to give a try to kill the pig in his house of whores, he's back where we came from, that way," the dark-eyed girl said, gesturing over to the hallway behind them.

"Wait... it's not _that_ way?" Deidara asked, pointing to the hall behind him where Sasori awaited him.

"Not if you don't want to end up beyond _Sundance_ , little boy," she said.

His heartbeat wildly in his chest, so intense that the mouth on his chest wriggled with each jagged breath he took. Sasori tricked him, even after all of the tears and pleas, it still wasn't enough for him. He had been right all along; Sasori was a monster. A liar, a bad man, and someone he needed to rid himself of as soon as possible. He had his clay now, so it was possible. Sasori would rue the day he set his home aflame, and his retribution would come sooner than he thought. Deidara would bring him Et Godt Farvel.

"I want you to follow me, if not for loyalty, for your lives. For your child's life. What lies beyond me is too fierce an opponent even for myself," Deidara said in the same benevolent, saccharine voice he used before. It was hard to force himself to speak in a mannerism he was not comfortable in, but it certainly got others to listen.

The two girls looked to each other in silence before the green-eyed girl gave a knowing nod, her babe clutched to her breast. They turned to Deidara, and picked the kunai off of the floor and held it out to Deidara. "Cut your leg, M'lord. Look like you failed to kill us."

Deidara obediently took the kunai out of the taller girls hand, then gashed his leg with the sharpened tip with all the courage he could muster. The pain was sharp and burned his calf more than he had pictured it would. Deidara let out a low groan from the pain, but he held on to his composure the best that he could for the two girls. With a weak cry, Deidara jammed the blood-coated kunai into the red-tiled wall.

The brown-eyed girl cocked her head. "M'lord is okay?"

Deidara nodded, unsure of if he truly was. He couldn't falter here; not so close to his grand escape. All he needed to do was get the innocent servants out of the manor, and then set the place afire. The bodyguards could perish along with Argento, for those who would protect evil must die along with it.

Deidara grasped an outstretched hand the taller girl offered him, and he hobbled along the catacombs with the support of his new chambermaids.

 **-and-and-and-and-and-**

 _The world was a cyclone in his eyes. He could barely see as Kanako and Meisa aided their lord along to the trap door in the kitchen of Argento's hideout._

The brown-eyed girl had introduced herself not long after their departure as Kanako, and the green-eyed maid with the babe in her arms was her younger sister, Meisa. Meisa had been taken by Argento as a whore for his pleasure, but as it became obvious that she was with child, Argento put her to work in the kitchen as a scullery maid. Kanako had personally worked as a chambermaid for Argento, but once Meisa's son was born they knew that they had to make their escape. Argento was not kind to male bastards, as a genuine heir was not something a bride of his was able to provide for him - from the first to the sixth wife, none would prove a fruitful womb.

"M'lord needs rest before he kills Argento," Meisa said as she balanced holding Deidara's left side and her own baby.

"I also suggest sparing the bodyguards less loyal to Argento, they may prove useful if we get attacked in our travels," Kanako suggested, hoisting Deidara back up as he began to slip from their hold.

Deidara wailed from the sudden movement; his leg had not stopped burning since he gashed it, and it seemed to be getting worse. It felt like it was spreading through his body, as well. Had the knife been rusted? No, it had been polished clean when Sasori handed it to him. He tried to think of what could be wrong, but his leg hurt too much to focus on anything but the pain.

"Your leg, M'lord..." Meisa muttered, looking at Deidara's backside.

"Keep moving, sister. M'lord promises to kill all slavers, and if he fails he will die. Either way, we cannot lose, so just help him to the kitchen." Kanako shook her head, as she had already peered behind Deidara to get a glimpse of his injured leg.

Meisa gripped her babe tighter. "But sister, his leg... it's _purple_..."

" _Meisa_." Kanako's voice was as hard as stone as she chided her sister. "To the kitchen, and no more."

Deidara flickered in and out of consciousness while Meisa and Kanako carried him to the end of the catacombs. He snapped back to the waking world when they carried him up the short ladder, but soon fell back to sleep once he was laid down on a mat in a small pantry.

When Deidara woke briefly, only Meisa was there, with her little one in a washbasin that was fashioned into a bassinet. She splashed cool water on him, to which Deidara let out a sigh. He had been burning with a reinvigorated fever, though he was thankful for the dreamless sleep it brought.

He groped around for his clay pack, but found it was not around his waist any longer. The garments were much lighter, as well. The flashes of gold and deep blue let him know that they had rummaged through his pack in his sleep.

"It has been but half an hour, M'lord. Kanako has gone to fetch some of the more kind servants, as well as a _maegi_. For your leg." Meisa held a mason jar of iced milk to his lips, which he drank with little protest. The sweet, cold drink soothed the fire in his body.

Deidara tried to say something, but his throat was too hot. He tried to point to his clay pack but his arms were as heavy as stones at his sides. It dawned on Deidara that the fever had overtaken him, and soon enough both the room and Meisa became a blur again as he gave in to unconsciousness. Deidara had no choice but to accept that it could possibly be the last time he woke.

 _There were no flashes of nightmares or raging ghosts that greeted Deidara as he dreamed, but rather the voice of his mother. The real one, as she had been in her waking life. The crackling hearth echoed throughout his mind as his mother softly whispered one of his favorite bedtime stories to him, all while he heard the wind howl outside._

 _"There were once six brothers, all by one mother. She loved them all dearly, though only Baelerion the big, ferocious dragon would ever be allowed to fly with her._

 _"Yet the other five brothers never fared quite as well as Baelerion, each one did rather remarkable things in their own right."_

 _As if on cue, Deidara heard his mother's words echo. "And remember, my babe, you do not have to be as Baelerion was to be great. Remember that, sweet one."_

 _"Zephyr, the hawk with feathers of white and blue, would match the winds in speed. Eros, the white dove, would bring peace to his mother's vengeful tirades. Onyx, the black wolf, betrayed his mother, and Baelerion protected her as he always would, until the bitter end. And Vulcan, the ghastly beast with a face that almost melted off of him, was not fit to walk with the mother, so she mercifully killed him when he was but a babe._

 _"Yet Red, a second dragon and the sixth brother, often was ignored by their mother. Baelerion's scales were pure white, and he had eyes so blue they seemed to contain the sky. Red, on the other hand, was a typical red-scaled dragon, with plain crimson eyes and a far smaller body than his brother. His fires burned ever brighter, though his mother would find out too late._

 _"Eros was kind and peaceful, but the mother spoiled him, and as he was raised like a delicate flower, he was crushed as one._

 _"Zephyr was a more tragic loss. An arrow to the heart, as the mother took back her home on his back. It almost cost her life, and her sanity._

 _"Yet when the darkness came to take their mother, Baelerion protected her until his last, though it was not enough. As the birds and Baelerion fell, Red was all his mother had for comfort and safety._

 _"It was not enough, as you know._

 _"One afternoon, a cold winter snowfall had graced the ruined kingdom of old. Red found his mother laying on the floor with her eyes closed, still, dead._

 _"He tried to wake her up, or to revive her. It was no use. Red let out a monstrous cry, one that perfectly captured the pain and grief that his mother had endured all of her life._

 _"And Red flew off, alone, and never to return._

 _"Goodnight, sleep tight, Deidara."_

 _"Deidara."_

"Deidara?"

" _Deidara_!"

His eyes shot open as he gasped in air, his lungs filled to the brim with oxygen. It was dark where he lay, but he could visibly see the bright red hair and brown eyes full of worry before him.

Sasori pressed a cold cloth onto Deidara's head., to which he flinched from the chill. His body convulsed while Sasori examined him, but it only took a moment for Deidara to realize that he was moving as well as he always had. The rest seemed to have done the trick, or possibly the iced milk. It didn't matter either way to a boy who had gotten his body back to normal.

Deidara wriggled his left arm out of the blanket he was swaddled in, grasping once more for his clay pack. "My clay... my..."

Deidara couldn't finish once he started wheezing, to which Sasori held a cloth to his mouth and patted his back until the hacking fit stopped. The cloth was lightly dotted with blood and phlegm as Sasori drew it back and tossed it into a nearby basin. He looked visibly upset, pained even. It wasn't anything like the man he had spent the better part of the day with.

"Two girls told me what happened. Meisa and Kanako, I think they were called. Nice girls. Your new servants, they said? That's an impressive feat, Deidara. Recruiting others on unfounded promises isn't particularly easy. Good job, little partner."

Deidara looked over to a short stool, where his clay pack was propped next to a few empty vials and mason jars. "My... clay..."

His voice was still too hoarse to thoroughly communicate what he wanted. He wanted his clay pressed between his fingers, to mold and to birth new life from art; he had no skill for the written word to take note of his dream, but he could create the six brothers as he imagined them when his mother had told him that story. He could continue her legacy when he couldn't cling to her memories that faded by the day.

Sasori seemed to understand Deidara's awkward babbling and reached for the pack, then placed it by Deidara's side with the pouches unzipped. He gently tucked him in once more, then pressed a fresh cold compress onto the nape of his neck. Deidara shivered at the sensation of the icy water as it dripped down his shoulders and spine.

He skinnied his arm back out of the blanket and thrust it into the pack that contained his clay. He pulled out a large mound, a rather reckless amount for something he needed to conserve as much of as possible. Nevertheless, he set to work on the creation of his mind's eye; even Sasori's gentle prying could not tear him away from his work. Eventually, the older man sighed soundlessly, resigned to letting his fellow artist take off with his newest masterpiece.

Sasori sat idly for some time before he peered over Deidara's shoulder to take a look at what he was working on. It was a bird, and it looked to be a very delicately crafted one so far. _Funny_ , Sasori thought, _there was a boy I vaguely recall not long ago that sat in a crude manner and sculpted birds_.

The last Sasori - or rightfully anyone - had ever heard of him, he had set that boy ablaze. Perhaps, maybe in the slightest chance, the boy had a twin brother.

"Deidara..." Sasori uttered amidst the little grunts of the working artist and the silence that swallowed the room.

Deidara slapped and folded little pieces of clay around, then looked behind him to respond. "I'm almost finished, I just need to make the details on the last one. Okay, hm?"

He gave a nod of approval. "Quick work, and not bad for a rushed job. Are they going to be used as explosives in case we fail to poison Argento?"

"No, not these ones. They're going to stay as regular sculptures."

"I see. And will you have enough clay after we're done here?"

"Is that any of your business, hm?" Deidara snarled.

"When all this is finished, I want a lift back to River Country. That's all I wanted to say." Sasori then stood up and walked over to the stool. He delicately picked up a small, empty vial and held it up to Deidara.

"I'll be doing the poisoning myself, by the way. It seems I can't even trust you to not die by a measly kunai, and I'm sadly all out of antidotes." Sasori shook the vial in Deidara's face before setting it back on the stool.

He had believed that he was immortal, as all children did. His family may have died, but he still stood. Han may have vanished, yet he still stood. And he would have stood alone, yet a little prick of a poisoned kunai was enough to kill him. His face grew hot, through embarrassment or fever, he did not know. He kicked himself in his mind; he should have seen that coming. As he hunched over his clay with the man that almost killed him twice over by his side, Deidara wondered if he could never learn to not be the fool he had always known himself to be.

Sasori sighed. "At least your leg is fine. You weren't stupid enough to sever a vein, so you should make a full recovery in a few hours."

Deidara's lip quivered. Unsure of how to respond, he only lowered his head. He knew that one day when he was able to assassinate someone on his own, he needed to face them with fire in his eyes. Not tears.

Yet that didn't stop them from welling up in his eyes. Be it from frustration, fever or fatigue, Deidara buried his face into the dirt floor with his sculptures in his arms. His muffled cries drew no attention, and neither Meisa or Kanako rushed to tend to him.

Yet Sasori, with his body as hard as his soul, embraced him in their stead.

 **-and-and-and-and-and-**

 _A little girl with a bowl cut of an_ _umber hue walked steadily down the hallway of the morgue. She had failed, and she knew not why it needed to be done. But it was_ not _done, and her grandfather still concocted a plan to have the event transpire._

Kurotsuchi opened the door to the coroner's lab, where her grandfather and her father awaited alongside him. They turned to her with soft eyes that did not see the next Tsuchikage, but a little girl. A princess of stone and coal.

Her eyes darted over to the four blanketed sheets that covered individual tables. Her hands quivered as they did that very night, though she dared not to say such a thing. It was her fault that she failed, but _why_ must she succeed in doing such a thing?

"Show me," Kurotsuchi said as she held back the trembling in her throat.

"Daughter, it would be best if we just explained-"

"I said _show me_. I am the next Tsuchikage, and I must be as hard and as tough as the earth itself. Grandpa, why did this have to happen? _Why_?"

"It's not me that did this to these poor men, Gran'daughter. You have to accept the truth of it all," Onoki said in the gentle voice he saved for only her.

"Father, you've gotta-"

" _Daughter_." Kitsuchi's gaze was stern, his massive frame shadowed over her like a mountain.

"Two men with their faces singed off, one with gouged eyes, one with a throat that was slit like a barbarian did the deed. Three of them had their legs severed." The coroner spoke up amid their argument, which caused the room to fall silent.

"He... really _did_ that to these men? We saw them every day, he always waved, even though they never waved back..." Kurotsuchi said in an attempt to reason with the bloodied evidence before her.

Onoki shook his head. "No, little one. Don't try and understand a monster's reasons, there ain't no use in it."

"That means we _have_ to kill him then, doesn't it?" Kurotsuchi said with a pout.

Onoki gave a firm nod. "That much is true, my Gran'daughter. The beast had a birthday coming up in a moon 'n' a half, didn't he?"

"May Fifth..." Kurotsuchi muttered.

"Then why don't we give the beastly boy a nice birthday gift. A shining silver dagger, and a brave man to plunge it through his heart."

As the coroner held up a jewel-encrusted dagger, the twinkle of the silver in the laboratory lights almost sparked a hint of gold in Kurotsuchi's eyes. She took it as an omen, as one would do, and prayed that the bravest men in their country happened to be busy for the next few months.

 **-and-and-and-and-and-**


	8. Hear My Cry!

_Deidara grasped the cracked side of the stone ruin that had once been a glorious monument in a town that housed a long-dead Kage revered as the most powerful in the world._

 _Yet_ he _was dead, too, and tired._

 _So very,_ very _tired._

 _It was only a few more steps until he could rest on his bed of ashes; to try to forget the grim truth of what the ashes truly were._

When Deidara finally opened his eyes again after a night filled with tears and restless sleep, the sun had already risen high into the sky, which even with his blurred vision could be seen through the dirty window of the kitchen. He patted around the ground to his left, searching for his clay creations as the ribbon around his wrist dragged along the ground with every little motion. Though they would not ever be detonated, Deidara made sure to fold the tiniest smidgen of his chakra into each one of them. It soothed his heart that ached for the past, though the same couldn't be said for the dulled, yet ever-unpleasant pain in his leg.

He gasped as a splash of cold water ran down the nape of his neck. Deidara turned his head around to see who had so ungraciously made his bed a freezing, wet mess, only to be met with the bright green eyes of Meisa staring down at him. A bruise now covered the right side of her face, which twisted her fair-skinned complexion into a swollen and misshapen scowl. He hoped it wasn't caused on his behalf.

Meisa must have noticed that Deidara was staring, so she said in a hushed voice, "I wasn't willing to tell another girl why she wasn't allowed in the kitchen. She brought a bodyguard back with her, and..."

She delicately touched the purple welt on her face, whimpering as she did so. Deidara sat up and brushed her hand with the tip of his fingers, as not to alarm her with the tongue that licked at the ground, and gazed directly into her eyes.

"They will both pay for this, Meisa. With their blood, their lives, and their ashes, they will _pay_."

"You talk like a lordling now?" Sasori snickered from a corner of the room.

Deidara threw the sopping wet blanket at him with as much force as he could muster, but it fell short of its target by a few feet. That only served to make Sasori break out in a full-fledged laugh, and it embarrassed Deidara even more once Meisa lightly giggled along with him.

"You both wanna get blown up inside this kitchen, hm? Because I'll do it!" Deidara yelled.

The laughing died down and Sasori smirked at Deidara. "Relax, you brat. We're going to have to change locations soon, and we can't risk it by having our brave little team leader yelling."

"Why can't we just poison him and be done with it, hm?" Deidara asked with an indignant pout.

"Since we've taken up residence in the kitchen, a poisoning would be easily traced back to your two girls here. The tall one is out scouting-"

" _Kanako_."

"What?"

"Her name is Kanako. Carry on, hm."

"Um, alright then. _Kanako_ is out scouting for a safe location to move to. The path there will be the most dangerous part, and I don't know which screaming baby is going to be the bigger liability," Sasori gestured to the babe sleeping in a little makeshift bassinet, then sneered at Deidara once he realized the other baby he mentioned was meant to be a dig at him.

"You're a jerk, you know that, hm?" Deidara spat.

Sasori shrugged as he slid a basket of dried bread and apricots over to Deidara. "And without me, you're doomed. I'm sure you know _that_."

As unwilling as he was to accept food from someone he didn't particularly care for, Deidara was ravenously hungry after the week he had lived through with almost no food to speak of. He shoveled the bread and apricots into his mouth with reckless abandon, while Sasori and Meisa watched on in silence as Deidara filled himself with the entire basket of food.

Meisa took a cloth from a rack by the sink and wiped Deidara's crumb-coated and juice-stained face after he pushed the basket across the dirt floor back towards Sasori, who remained silent even several minutes after Deidara had finished his meal.

Deidara tightened the sash around his waist and briefly tousled his hair before he strapped his clay pack back on, then plopped the six clay creatures into the top of his garb. Sasori held back a snicker at the sight of how he looked, since the way he stuffed the little trinkets in there gave him quite a bosom.

"Well?" Deidara asked, turning around for Sasori and Meisa to view him. "How does everything look?"

"You're absolutely _blossoming_ , Deidara," Sasori said as he tried to hold back his laughter.

Deidara cocked his head, but Meisa spoke up before anything else could be said. "What he _means_ , M'lord, is the way you have those sculptures in your dress makes you look somewhat like a young maiden."

"Well, where _else_ am I supposed to keep them safe, hm?" Deidara asked, his voice filled with anger.

Sasori pressed his left index and middle finger against his temple and gazed off into nothing for a brief moment, seemingly done conversing with Deidara. He huffed, and sat himself back down on the makeshift bed that had been set up for him. Deidara restlessly fixed his eyes on the dirty windowpane; he wondered how long he had really been here.

Meisa fiddled with Deidara's hair as she herself grew fidgety, but when she reached for Deidara's left wrist and the object of her desire, his fingers gently touched her hands before they could busy themselves with the ribbon around his wrist. "No," Deidara said gently, "this is a cursed ribbon, and it's up to me to bear it, not you."

Meisa gave a silent nod, then carried on with her busywork of braiding and knotting Deidara's mane into an increasingly effeminate style. "How cute," Meisa giggled after a few moments of looking him over. "You're like a little sister I did not have, and now you have peacemaker's crown in your hair."

"Peacemaker's crown, hm?" Deidara's eyes lit up as he heard the words come from her mouth.

"A beautiful bridal hairstyle for her wedding day, but it's not very common anymore. No one really wants this many braids, and not many women have that much hair. It's a commodity, you know." Meisa directed Deidara to a looking glass that hovered above the sink and the piles of dirty pots. He smiled; though it was truly a hairdo for the fairer sex, the way the braids were tied at the top of his head and fell in wavy golden locks to his chest and back made Deidara faintly nostalgic, and a bit happy in a way that he could not fully say.

"Loathe as I am to interrupt the sisterhood moment I'm fortunate enough to witness, it's an hour past high noon, and we're expecting Kanako back any moment," Sasori spoke up as Deidara snapped back to his reality, a dirty kitchen and a murderer to guide him to the dining hall.

"Right..." Meisa lowered her head as she tiptoed past Sasori, leaving a dispassionate Deidara by the sink with knuckles as white as the hot white sun, for he grew tired of the endless fleeing. He wanted to find a home to rest, maybe put his feet up by a hearth and take up sculpting as a serious hobby.

As he gazed down at his pale, bony, hairless fingers, he realized that his inner thoughts echoed that of an old man. Just the thought alone made his stomach turn; long white locks would never be permitted upon his head. Deidara would sooner shake hands with the sun that insisted on making Wind Country an inhospitable wasteland.

Meisa gathered her babe from his bassinet while he quietly dreamed of whatever his innocent new mind could. As she held him firmly in her arms, she tiptoed to the plank of a door and lightly pushed it open with her right foot. Sasori gestured for Deidara to follow them, the momentary time of rest now over and done.

The corridor the trio scurried through was just slightly brighter than the _Sundance_ catacombs Deidara and Sasori had crept through before. Meisa guided the duo through any twist and turn, and chose the direction when they came across any of the three forks in their path. It was only a matter of minutes before they reached a room lined with books, a cherry wood desk carved with angels placed in the center, and rich velvet drapes in a wine red color that lined the glass-paneled window that was almost as big as the other three walls. To the left, most notably, Deidara glanced at a map that has been framed and mounted above an oddly tidy hearth.

As Sasori made himself comfortable on one of the chairs upholstered in magenta satin that was propped against the window and covered himself in his hood once more, Deidara fell back to where Meisa quietly sat with her son fast asleep at her breast. He crouched down before her, determined not to scare the gentler of his two maids.

"Did Kanako find any possible allies, hm?" Deidara muttered under his breath. Meisa continued to mind her babe, her eyes not daring to look forward.

"Yes, M'lord. My sister knew of a couple of other women... .maybe a handful of elderly servants, and a few children who would enjoy a change of master, especially if he means to let us go with a handsome sum. Unfortunately, not many able-bodied men will so much as speak with her, much less obey one as... . _young_ , as you."

 _A master of the decrepit_ , _women_ , _and children_. _Small good any of them will do_ , Deidara scowled. He was to become a master of the most useless of a household, and to burn the ones who could protect him or train him into a fine Shinobi. Though it was not entirely a loss; at the very least, they were extra bodies Sasori would have to plow through to catch him when he escaped.

"Meisa. . . ." Deidara glanced back to Sasori, who was quietly looking out the window to the bright blue skies and sand dunes on the horizon. _He's listening in_ , Deidara realized. He was being _too_ quiet.

Somber green eyes looked into his. _She knows it too_ , he thought.

After a short pause, Deidara broke the silence when he cleared his throat. "Meisa, would you, ah, ever consider staying as one of my personal maids, hm?"

Sasori's head tilted when he heard Deidara ask that, and Meisa's light brown skin blushed a deep crimson. The little babe gripped at her dress in his sleep while his mother searched for an answer that satisfied her.

"I don't want to tell you 'No', M'lord, for want of no further pain in my face. But will my sister be able to stay with me? My son?" Meisa kept her head lowered as she slowly forced the entire response out.

Shocked, Deidara was about to balk at the idea of him striking a woman, but Sasori piped up before he could speak. "Deidara doesn't make the decisions here. It's my choice whether you all are coming with us, and I forbid it. The only one who will be leaving with me is Deidara, and frankly, I don't care what happens to the rest of you."

"You do not control me, you red demon!" Deidara yelled.

Sasori shot him a piercing glare. "I don't care how I'm bringing you to River Country either. If you keep resisting or attempt another escape, I'll just drag you around in irons until I've turned the damned lock on the door of your room."

"The hell you will!"

"I'll chain you to the wall by your arms and neck, and gag your loud mouth if it keeps you where you're supposed to be."

" _Stop it_!"

The sound of her voice raised brought the two to silence. Meisa looked pained, her arms clutched tightly at her son who had miraculously remained in his peaceful slumber. Through gritted teeth, she gathered herself and spoke once more.

"You two must not speak so freely! If you woke my baby...no, even if you keep arguing the way you are, you _will_ be caught. Maybe by Argento's bodyguards, or maybe one of his 'scouts', _M'lord_..."

Meisa shot Deidara a glare. The way she looked at him afterward, however, with a pitying gaze, told Deidara what she had meant by the last part of her scolding. From that point on, as the three sat quietly on opposite sides of the room, Meisa kept a close eye on Sasori. She wouldn't let Deidara leave her side, and whenever Deidara tried to speak, Meisa gently pressed her index finger to her lips.

The gilded clock's ticking was the only sound that occupied the room. Deidara restlessly fiddled around with his garb, constantly assuring himself that his creations were unharmed. Meisa nodded off every now and then, but she snapped back to her vigilant watch over Sasori every time he so much as cocked his head.

She pressed her ear to the wall, and closed her eyes to listen for any sign of activity nearby. When she pulled away, she signaled for Deidara to lean in close to her.

"Kanako should have convinced the group of defectors to follow you to safety by now. It's been too long for a bodyguard to not have found you, so that must mean that they were successful in throwing them off of your trail."

Deidara's chest fluttered with excitement, his sealed tongue quivering as he felt his spirit soar. He was doing it, he was really, truly going to be free.

Just then, Deidara remembered Meisa's words to him as he woke. "What of the girl and the guard, hm? Wouldn't they want to stay loyal to their master?"

Meisa shot daggers at Sasori. "That man silenced them. He is not a man of empty promises, he showed me as much. He'll make quick work of Argento as he almost did of you, M'lord."

"You mean..."

"The poison this man uses is of the Ninth Circle of Hell, M'lord. The agony you were in, even in sleep...I feared you would not wake..."

 _Feared_ , _or hoped_? Deidara wondered. It wasn't as if she was indebted to him for anything, though the promise of money from a wide-eyed, hopeful boy may have been enough to sway the sisters. The thing that truly worried Deidara was that if Sasori was capable of using a poison that could do. . . _whatever_ had befallen him in the catacombs, then it was likely that he would be well-stocked in the same vile concoction to ensure that every promise he had sworn to Deidara would come to pass if he continued to resist.

"I wouldn't recommend using my poison as a method to try and kill yourself as an escape from your situation again. Well, at least I wouldn't recommend dying in such a painful way. If you want to die so badly, why not become part of my collection? I'm not actually sure I _have_ an explosion release user."

Sasori threw his head back and chuckled once he saw the mixed look of horror and a childlike pout that marred Deidara's face. It earned him no affection from either of the fools in dresses that sat across him, but it certainly brought him the vastly underrated fear that kept his life running as he pleased.

"So, Meisa, is your rock-jawed sister going to be done herding the useless ones for Deidara sometime this decade?" Sasori asked, finally directing all of his attention to Meisa and Deidara, who remained close by her side.

Meisa's brow furrowed. "She told me she would be done by sunset. Be patient, these are not things chambermaids normally train for."

Sasori shifted his sharp gaze over to Deidara. "If these girls fail to accomplish this by sunset, we are leaving. Bounty or no bounty. Do you understand?"

Deidara gritted his teeth, but remembered what had been promised to him if he did not obey. Instead of a rude gesture or a tongue lashing, Deidara simply nodded.

"A miracle. He learns."

"You condition him like a dog. Will you ask him to eat from a bowl or bark on command?" Meisa rolled her eyes at Sasori's smirk.

"You know, if Deidara weren't here, I would have killed you for that," Sasori said bluntly, and made no effort to look her in the eye as he threatened her.

 _Tap. Tap._

Two audible taps echoed throughout the silent room. Deidara held his breath, until after a brief pause another two taps filled the still air. Meisa smiled, her eyes closed as she sighed in relief, a hand rested against the wall.

"Was that...?"

"Kanako, yes. We did this when we escaped before. She'll be leaving through the catacombs, along with your people. You will guide them with wisdom and valor, I am sure."

Sasori scoffed, and pushed his legs off from where they rested to stand before the two. "Didn't we _just_ have this conversation?"

Meisa's eyes did not open, nor did her head turn. Tiredly, she said, "Do you have yet to poison Argento? It is almost his supper time, I suspect it is a good time to do so."

As Meisa yawned, Sasori crept over to Deidara and held out a hand to him. Hesitantly, Deidara allowed Sasori to help him up, but he was pleasantly surprised to find he was not restrained or pushed as he followed Sasori to the magnificently carved door that lead back to the narrow corridor.

A little cough vexed Deidara to sharply turn back to Meisa, not willing to forsake his gentle maid hopeful. She gave a little weary smile at Deidara, her exhaustion on full display with the last of her tension dissipated.

"I'll be fine, M'lord. Kanako will be here for me soon. Be safe, and be quick." The words Meisa said did little to soothe Deidara, who was stricken with the realization that he was truly about to murder a man for no reason other than the price of his head.

"Come on," said Sasori as he grabbed Deidara by his right wrist. "Let's get this over with."

Deidara didn't mean to see it, but as the two tiptoed through the dark corridor he saw Sasori slip a vial full of a dark liquid out of his sleeve. Before Sasori could turn around to catch him with a look that plainly read apprehension, Deidara locked his gaze to what lied ahead of him.

The Earth Mother was kind this afternoon. When Sasori nonchalantly waltzed into the kitchen with nary a care in the world the pair was greeted with the silence of an empty room, as luck would have it. The redhead deftly approached a pot filled with water that awaited a scullery maid to come set a fire under it for boiling, and after a careful examination, Sasori gestured for Deidara to come and observe the setup of cookware with him.

"What do you see that's wrong here, Deidara?" Sasori said, his sweet tone masking the venomous intent behind them.

"Um...no one is here making dinner?" Deidara asked, unsure what the right answer was.

"Look _in_ the pot, brat."

Deidara balanced himself on his toes to glance into the large cast-iron pot. Inside was water, and nothing else, aside from flecks of red and a smell of iron or copper. What precisely the source of the foul smell was, Deidara could not say. It was then that his eyes caught a glimmer in the water, yet only a small gasp was able to escape past his lips.

"It's..."

"An earring, yes. Our little scullery maid was dispatched, and probably the whole kitchen staff, too. The only question is _by whom_ ," Sasori said, a hint of excitement in his voice.

"You don't think one of Argento's men found out, do you, hm?" Deidara asked as he firmly planted his trembling feet back on the ground.

"Who knows, and who cares? It doesn't matter who tries to attack us, they'll all die the same." Sasori minded the little vial he had snuck out of his sleeve before, and gingerly opened the cap with the teal nails of his index finger and thumb.

"Wait, we're gonna poison him anyway?" Deidara exclaimed as Sasori delicately swished the vial around in his hand.

"Not just him," Sasori chuckled as he glided to the pipes that carried water to the entire homestead. "This entire folly has gone on long enough. Now, let's end this and be on our way..."

Before Sasori could lower the vial Deidara was already on him, his hands snapping as he struggled to hold Sasori back. The two knocked into a cabinet, a case of dishes and the pot on the stove, before they dragged each other to the dirt floor where they both tried their damnedest to subdue the other. " _No_!" Deidara shouted every few moments that passed, and each yell, grunt and cry sounded off further into the distance.

The thunderous roar of a horde of Argento's men was the cue Sasori took to slam Deidara into the glass cabinet, shattering each panel as little sharp crystals rained upon the bloodied boy that lay still under it. By the time five massive men that were armed to the teeth with weapons entered the destroyed kitchen, only the tiny bloody mess that was Deidara remained.

He assumed Sasori thought he had killed him, or injured him too gravely to be worth continuing this mission. _Good, and good riddance_ he thought as he worked to reshape the clay beasts that he had tucked into his garb. Thankfully, not much damage had been done to them, aside from the cat's nose. He couldn't _quite_ fix that the way he had hoped.

The tranquility of the moment was broken with a boot that smashed into the side of his chest, causing him to cough up blood and double over where he lay. A strong pair of arms grabbed him off of the floor which made the world spin around him. He could barely keep up with where he was going, until he was thrown onto a large silken cushion. He looked to the mosaic ceiling above him and sighed.

 _Why did caring for others have to be so inconvenient_? Deidara asked himself.

Warm water was poured over his body, making him writhe in stinging pain. A big pair of hands gave his cheeks a single pat, but he dared not open his eyes to see who the hands belonged to. As imminent as his death was, he didn't want to face it. Not yet.

" _Sundrop_?" Was that Roshi? No, he didn't want to delude himself. No one was coming to save him. His shoulder was shaken by a much smaller hand, but far more rough and calloused than the ones before. Yet he knew to not be so foolish.

"You know this one, friend?" an unfamiliar voice called out.

"'Course I do, this here is my nephew, he wouldn't hurt a fly. Looks like something sure hurt him, though," Roshi said back to the stranger.

"I see, so this isn't the one they're looking for. Men, please make sure no harm comes to either of my guests."

A cold shiver passed through Deidara. _Argento_. He knew it was him, from how he claimed him as a guest and the orders he gave the guards around them. His eyes snapped open, only to get a view of Roshi's bearded, ruddy-skinned face. Not too far behind him sat a man as fat as a cow, if that cow dressed in silks and decorated themselves in gold and emeralds. As the two locked eyes, Argento gave him a wide, gap-toothed grin.

"Uncle, you know this man, hm?" Deidara asked, feigning a weak voice.

Roshi gave a half-smile. "Well, as of a day ago, I do. A guard of his came into the bar I was enjoying myself in, and we got to talking. Turns out the poor lord here has been bleeding servants the past two days, plus every slaver in the Northern Sands is after his bounty. He promised us safe passage to _Hestia_ if we can help dispose of this assassin that's started after him recently."

 _You mean he's a slaver and he's finally reaping what he's sown, uncle. You stupid old fool._

"Who's trying to kill him?" Deidara asked, for his mind was better left unspoken.

Sounds of deep exhaling left an aroma of smoke wafting through the air. "Sasori of the Red Sand."

Deidara looked back again to Argento, who calmly took another drag from his cigar. "The monster who killed so much in the Third Great Shinobi War that he left the sand red with blood. I haven't a clue why I matter so much to him, aside from that damned bounty."

"We'll help you ward him off, even if we can't put an end to that psychopath," Roshi affirmed, lowering his head to the blob in the golden chair.

"I'm curious how your nephew found his way into my kitchen. Little golden one, would you mind telling old Argento what happened?"

At that moment, Deidara felt the room focus entirely on him. He sat up fully, and collected himself before he began in the most innocent tone he could manage. He would need it.

"I went out for a walk around town a day ago, and then I saw him. He had red hair, maybe we're talking about the same man." _Of course we are, not that I'd tell you the truth._ "He grabbed me, said that he'd seen my Uncle follow a guard to your manor, and wanted me as a hostage so he wouldn't get attacked by someone as strong as Uncle Roshi. I had no idea you were being hunted, you see, I can't read, and-"

"Alright, I've heard enough," Argento said with his pudgy hand raised. "The boy helps fill in some blanks, to be sure. But a murderer such as this after me is a grave matter. I don't suppose you have any other information on the fellow, do you?"

"No sir, but from what he made it sound like, he meant to poison the water supply here." Deidara took great effort to sound particularly glum. "That's why I'm like this, I tackled him, I couldn't let that happen..."

Roshi wrapped his arms around Deidara, hugging him in a way that his father used to. For only a brief moment, his eyes squeezed shut to fight back tears that he did not want, and he hoped that everyone noticed.

"A hero of the people," Argento lifted his bejeweled goblet of wine, then took a big swig. As soon as the cup was drained, the wine came pouring out of his throat along with his lifeblood.

 _Clink_! The goblet fell to the floor, and the entire room turned to the window that remained open. Deidara knew, he was absolutely sure that it was Sasori. Roshi put a hand on his shoulder, muttering something about being back soon, and how he was a good kid and to be good if he never returned.

Deidara remained still, wistfully gazing out the window to the blue sky and sand that blew in the unrelenting winds. The guards had already scattered. They knew it too. Their time to plunder was now, and they all scurried for the prized hog atop his golden seat. His head wasn't for them though, Deidara would be sure that he left with the bounty, if nothing else. He only hoped that Meisa and Kanako and the others had escaped by now, for this would be the manor's final hour.

Little doves flew from his hands. Peace from a peacemaker, wearing a crown of golden lies. He brought no peace, only salvation. And as he raised his index and middle finger once more, he cleansed the manor of its evil with a bouquet of bursting flames.

The head blew off easily, once he wrapped a little centipede around the corpse's thick neck. A sea of charred others lay around it, but this was Argento to be sure. He had taken great care not to damage him just yet. With the mansion ablaze, he felt the floor creak and crumble beneath him. But it didn't matter now; he had won. Sasori and Roshi both would fight until either died, and in the likely event that Sasori won, he would assume him dead. He had gotten his bounty, he had gotten his followers, and before a charred rafter smacked him atop his head, he had almost gotten away, too.

 **-and-and-and-and-and-**

 _Kabuto Yakushi packed his things in a hurry. The old woman, Erina, had gone more than senile overnight. The crone had gone mad, choking and cackling as she spout nonsense in her bed. The silver-haired medic wished to remain here no longer._

"The Mother!" the grey crone screeched, followed by another hacking cough. Then another burst of mad laughter, prompting Kabuto to speed up his escape yet.

Kabuto hurriedly threw his medical supplies into a pack, but soon ran out of the room. It was too much of a hassle to carry all of his things, so he opted to leave behind the majority of his map work and clothes. Just then, another screaming howl came from downstairs, it's demonic echo startling him once more.

"The Mother shall claim her land once more! A blight! A curse upon those who accepted the sacrifice! A blight shall restore the land again!"

 _Damn it_ Kabuto silently kicked himself. He couldn't take the phone, so Orochimaru would just have to have a surprise visitor in a week or two. He had accomplished all he wanted to do, anyway. By now, a strong recovery party from the Stone Village and a Sand Village faction would likely both be honing in on the Northern Sands. Whether they caught the boy or killed each other, Kabuto didn't care. What mattered is both parties would be weakened, which would help further his lord's plans greatly.

"Burn! Burn! _Burn_! Cower in despair as you lose all hope, for the Mother has awoken, and a blight shall be inflicted upon this damned land!"

She had been placid for a week, but yesterday Erina began this disturbing diatribe, and would not cease no matter how great the amount of sedatives were given to her. In the wee hours of the dawn, Kabuto hurried down the stairs and passed the old hag as she choked on her own laughter.

"A Blight! Death! Destruction! Death! A Blight!"

A blight indeed, Kabuto couldn't bear to be near this for another moment. As Erina hacked and coughed herself to death, she yelled and screamed for the Mother's return.

Kabuto slammed the creaky wooden door shut. He had only begun hearing tales of this Earth Mother once he arrived in the Earth Country. It seemed a small group of lunatics worshipped a monstrous Goddess. Or God, he did not know a woman as evil as this one sounded. He was glad such a creature, such a _beast_ , wasn't real or likely apt to hurt him.

And he hoped nothing so uncontrollably vengeful would ever exist outside of that choking crone's prayers.

 **-and-and-and-and-and-**

 _In the early hours of the dawn, a little tribe of people gathered around the remains of what was once their prison. The women, children, and elderly alike gazed upon the wreckages of the beautiful home they once were chained inside._

There were broken gems, melted gold and steel wares, as well as the occasional ruin of a piece of furniture. Skeletons of grown men and a few women littered the ash and sand like a garden of bones. In the wreckage sat a little golden boy, clutching a half mangled head, his body covered head to toe in soot and his clothes completely scorched off of him.

Yet _he_ was unburnt.

Kanako had taken a naginata to guard the small group of weaklings, but as brave a fighter she may have been, she fell to her knees at the sight of Deidara amongst the ashes. Meisa, the other two young women, the five elderly, and the three children gathered beside her, all marveling at the sight before them.

Deidara looked to the people who kneeled before him, but his mind could not dwell on it for long. For around his neck, the little red dragon worried about his new parent. A white dragon crawled upon his arm, a dove rested in his lap, while a little hawk nestled by his side. A wolf pup and beastly cat minded their parent's feet, nipping his toes whenever they wiggled.

The red dragon spread his wings and let out a shrill, deafening cry. The white followed, and soon enough the others. Deidara proudly gazed upon his children, ones that never flew from his hands or would ever be detonated. They were _his_ , and like these people, they would be his in a way that they never would be for another soul.

The little white dragon let out a cry even louder yet, as red and white fought to cry out the loudest. _My furious children, let the world hear your cry_ Deidara thought.

Screeching little roars carried the group into the morning, and through the afternoon and evening. Even cleaned, clothed, and sitting by a fire, the group listened intently to their new "Mater" while he doted on his children. There was no mistaking it; these people put their lives in his hands. They would follow him until he burned every last slaver in the world.

And who would argue that he would not? Not even a day ago he filled the air with tears and pleas for mercy, and now he filled it with the cries of beasts and the cheers of freed people. With smoke, fire, and ashes throughout it all.

 **-and-and-and-and-and-**


	9. Vulcan

He was not as powerful as he thought he was the day before.

The sun would not relent, beating down on the little Mater and his followers. He couldn't let them rest, not because of a test of will, but that there was truly nowhere to go.

To the North, behind them, awaited _Sundance_ , and to the West lied _Hestia_ , the opposite of where he wanted to go. The East was no better, which held the many threats of the Fire Country, as well as River Country, somewhere he ultimately decided against hiding in.

That only left the South, which led straight to the Sand Village, if the group continued the way they were. He had no intention of straying the path, not with a group so weak and a desert of bandits hidden behind every dune.

It didn't help that the way the group presented was rather...savage, to say it kindly. There were a handful of villages they had passed along the way, but each gate was promptly shut once they saw the screeching beasts that the scantily-clothed leader presented to the guards. Occasionally the argument of the children, hungry and dirty as they were, would be too much to handle, but when the subject of the little babe at Meisa's thinning breasts was addressed the gates were shut anyway.

Deidara hadn't left much intact in the manor, so the best he could be clothed in was a sash similar to his old one, plus an old scarf to keep his children from clawing at his shoulders and arms. The subject of hygiene was non-negotiable; they couldn't find a place to eat, much less take a hot bath.

The one positive in this slow starvation was the company he would starve to death with. Isamu and Yutori were as deft a maid as any, and far more pleased to be nothing more than a scullery rather than a whore. Even Kanako, as hardened as she was, spoke in a muted tone when she was around the girls. The old men and women - two men and three crones, to be exact - all called Deidara "Mater" more than the others, and went on about how exciting it was to see a deity in their lifetime. Meisa gently told Deidara to not dispute them, as their odds were the worst of the group to make it through the night.

But the children were a different breed entirely. Two of them were younger, a boy and a girl of seven, but a girl of thirteen with short black hair and a slender frame reminded him of Kurotsuchi. If not for the skin, he could have mistaken her for the little princess back North. It made it hard to look at her for too long, and it seemed to affect her whenever he tried to look away.

He wouldn't have to worry about hurting a girl's feelings for long if this kept up, however. Starvation loomed over the group, and if not the hunger, surely the heat would begin to pluck off the elderly and younger children soon.

Through the journey, Yutori had prompted him to name his six children. He knew their names before he knew they were alive, but he figured there was no point in sparing any details any longer.

"The little kitty here is Vulcan, but his face is a bit misshapen. I blame Sasori, it's his fault, really," he had explained.

"He's ugly!" the little boy had cried.

" _Sanjuro_." His mother, Isamu, suffered no misbehavior from her son. Just the utterance of his name kept him in line.

Deidara simply continued on, and pointed to the little black wolf that slept in a basket that the younger girl, Mio, carried to keep "her new puppy" safe at all times. It appeared that she had taken a bigger liking to the pup than he.

"Onyx, he's the little wolf. He bites, so I wouldn't go teasing him too much there, Mio." his words were a little too late, however. Her cries were brief, but she promised to train Onyx to not nip fingers and toes.

Nyoko had helped get the discussion back on track, as much as it pained him to look at her. "What about the pretty bird?" she had asked.

Yasuo and Takakaze, the old men whose combined age was over 200, chewed on nothing as the three crones listlessly watched their appointed deity speak.

"Oh, you mean Eros, right, hm? He's the most beautiful thing, isn't he? Look how white and fluffy his feathers are, he's almost all down~" Deidara happily sang sung his love of Eros and his fluffy coat with abandon, almost at all times he chose to keep him close to his side. Kanako had already forced Deidara to interact with the other five twice.

"I, ah, I meant the one with the blue..." she muttered. He could tell she felt embarrassed, so he decided to mercifully humor her.

"That one will be called Zephyr, he's quite pretty too, but all of my creations are a perfect work of art," Deidara had to force out the last bit a little, as Vulcan had once more gotten slobber all over his face and body.

It was then when magnificent white wings kicked up some dust at his parent's feet. Deidara picked up his biggest beast, proudly letting him display his wingspan of over a foot.

"This one will be Baelerion, from a story my mother used to tell me." They didn't need to know that they were _all_ from that story, though.

As if on cue, the little red dragon once again challenged Baelerion with his less-impressive wings, scrawny and flecked with gold. Deidara grabbed him by his gangly neck and held him close, his body warm and scaly. "This last one is going to be called Red, because he's got a horrible temper."

And a temper he did have. The hunger and the stagnant, hot air angered none more than Red, aside from Deidara himself. It wasn't a foe he could burn away; he needed to find food for his people, and soon.

Even the winds seemed to mock him. Every time he had gazed out of a window in _Sundance_ there was nothing beyond the horizon aside from sand being kicked up by powerful, unrelenting gales. Yet now it seemed that Wind Country was telling him he was not welcome here, and even the wind had turned its back on him.

By the first evening, the elderly already looked ready to fall over at any given moment. They chose to die where they lay, despite Deidara's constant protests for them to follow. It was the women first, then the men. Yasuo shut his eyes last, smiling up to Deidara when he asked him to revive the land once more. Per Meisa's request, he smiled back and told him that he would.

No one suggested eating the bodies, despite Deidara thinking of it. He never mentioned it, and simply buried the bodies where they died with the help of Kanako, who dug shallow ditches with her naginata. By dawn the remaining party had seldom rested for fear of bandits, rapers, or a certain redheaded murderer who may have tracked them. They were all visibly tired, and hungry. The group of now-eight weaklings continued to blindly follow Deidara through the desert despite the much-stated fact that he had no idea where he was headed.

Deidara kept the beasts in Mio's woven basket, and the seared head of Argento in a large rucksack that Nyoko tasked herself with carrying. Deidara took Baelerion out of his cage, pulling a single berry from a bush that Isamu had harvested on the way out of the meager rations. He held it to Baelerion, trying to coax him to eat. The little white dragon furiously shrieked and flapped his wings, no matter how many ways Deidara tried to feed him. He _did_ look a tad bigger than last night, but he couldn't say for sure.

Meisa handed her babe to Yutori to go console Deidara. "M'lord, don't you know how to feed a dragon?"

 _Silly, sweet girl, there were never dragons until last night_ Deidara thought, but he only said, "No, no one ever showed me how. No one ever told me anything, that's why I can't find us safety...or food."

Truth be told, safety was of as great import as the food. When Deidara set the manse ablaze, he neglected to mind his clay or pack, leaving nothing to arm a group of slave women and children and their boy leader aside from a naginata and the interesting tale behind the dragon atop Deidara's shoulder.

 _If a group of bandits captures us, I could sell myself for my own ransom, maybe buy myself some time_ Deidara mused as he dredged himself through the hot sand, his bare feet burning with each step.

But why wait for a cruel death at the hands of Onoki? Why not try to woo the bandits to his side? As much as he hated to admit it to himself, he would sell the girls in a heartbeat if it meant he and his children survived. Sanjuro might live to wander another day as well, solely for the reason of being born a boy.

When the faded beige bricks popped up on the horizon, Deidara at first assumed he was hallucinating. But the cheers and praise from the group around him reaffirmed the town to be true, and as the party stepped foot onto the entrance of sandstone and decayed brick it was made clear that the city was the best thing one could hope for: dead.

There wasn't much left of the town, aside from the robustly-built brick buildings and the thicker cloths, tapestries and rugs. The truly special thing about the town was the garden in the center that bloomed in spite of the harsh desert, most likely due to the brick walls that surrounded the dead city. Peaches, figs, coconuts and mangoes lined the trees around the town. Plenty of pistachio and litchi nuts lined the gardens besides, and after a quick run through the town it seemed that the little group would have plenty to eat for months to come.

Isamu, the oldest one among them now, was tasked to make sure everyone ate no more than their share. Meisa and Yutori learned the well was still producing water from the spring, and immediately drew a bath for the group in the town's fountain. The children splashed about as they played tag, gleefully running about as the women rested in the water.

Deidara let his children out to wander, but Eros remained close to his parent. Unlike Red, Onyx, and Zephyr, Eros preferred to stay ruffled in Deidara's lap or under his hair. Baelerion crawled close enough to Deidara, but far enough to keep an eye on his surroundings. Vulcan hobbled along behind Deidara, grunting and gurgling all the while.

He wanted to bathe alone; as the oldest boy, he deemed it best to keep his distance from the others. He scooped up the slobbering Vulcan in his arms, letting him rest in his lap when he found a shady place to sit. Eros had fallen sound asleep in his nest of hair, but Baelerion remained focused on his parent. His eyes were blue, much like his own, but so much more calm.

"We could stay here, you know. All of us. One day you all will grow bigger, and we can hunt to find you food if we must. Then we can go back home, and take revenge on the Tsuchikage and his family." But until then, the fig in his mouth was more important. It was a little ripe and tart, but nothing had tasted better.

Baelerion cocked his head, emitting little clicking squeals from his snout as he listened to his parent talk to him. He didn't know if he understood him, nor did he care. This was the plan, and no amount of obstacles would change that. He had a safe place to live now, so he only needed to wait.

Once the handful of figs was devoured, Deidara wiped his juice stained face with a bare arm. It wasn't long after he climbed into the fountain to bathe that he remembered Argento's head that sat in the rucksack a few meters away. He cursed under his breath, angry that he had forgotten his ticket to the Ryo needed to support them in the excitement of finding shelter and food.

He allowed Meisa and Yutori to clean out his hair with a bone-toothed comb one of the children had found, while Isamu doused water over him here and there. Kanako scrubbed his back and legs clean, remarking that he had no body hair to speak of. Deidara reminded her that he was only fifteen, to which she reminded him that most fifteen-year-olds were shinobi that have been trained to assassinate men twice their size, and usually they had body hair as well as several kills under their belt. Deidara didn't know why body hair was so important to efficiently murder; he seemed to do it fine with his clay.

Zephyr was the first to fly, his white and periwinkle-blue wings carried him a good twenty feet before he gently let himself down. Deidara cooed his little flyer, stroking his fluffy head while he showboated his little wingspan. "You're my little flyer," Deidara said with a soft voice. "You'll own the skies one day, I'm sure."

"M'lord..." Kanako began. Meisa nudged her sister, but it had no effect.

Deidara glanced up at Kanako as she stood over him in his bath, while he draped over the side like a siren. "What is it, hm?" Yet he knew what it was from the rucksack gripped tightly in her hand.

"Our lives would be easier yet if we had money, which this head will provide. How are we supposed to bring it to a group of slavers that we do not know where to find? Surely you can think of a way?" Kanako was as unsure as he, though he didn't care to show it.

"I think we can survive on hunting and fruits for a little while, right, hm?" Deidara asked.

Meisa cleared her throat. "Maybe for a moon or two, yes. M'lord, if you wish to ensure survival, unfortunately we will need Ryo."

Deidara sighed. "I'd have taken us through every slaver's lair on the way if I knew where any of them were."

Baelerion screeched, crawling up on to Deidara's wet hair to perch proudly. Yutori finished her combing with haste, not wanting to provoke the territorial little beast. Kanako dropped the rucksack before Deidara, her stern gaze telling him all he needed to know. He was the only one who stood a chance with the slavers; they'd never listen to a woman.

He gave a solemn nod. Come the evening, Deidara found it nearly impossible to sleep. Curiosity tugged at the thick robe of seafoam green they had fashioned for him. While he rummaged through the rest of the dead town, he happened upon three different maps. The first two crumbled at his touch, but when he merely looked at the third rather than interact with it he found that several cities he had passed for sure were not even marked on it.

The more Deidara looked around the town the better he could picture what exactly had happened. Long ago, probably before he was born, a small town thrived here. Then something, he did not know what, managed to annihilate the entire town. Something that didn't want the food, clean water, or anything but the people. Decayed pots and dishes lined tables of broken clay and brick homes, and what appeared to be hearths were still covered in ash. The only certainty is that the dead city was not abandoned willingly, and even Baelerion kept quiet as his parent pondered what could have possibly caused an entire people to vanish.

The moon was quite lovely tonight, Deidara had taken note of. The desert was covered in a hue of deep blue and a sky filled with stars, but the moon had never looked brighter to the little mountain sprite. Even Baelerion couldn't focus on much else but the lunar marvel above them, and only when the other five of his children found their parent and a part of him to claim for a perch did Baelerion so much as peep.

Deidara looked at his children, hoping dearly that the world would stay this quiet for a little while longer. "We don't belong here, Baely. We're meant to fly and burn and create beautiful art. One day we'll go home, then we can be free." _But only after those who mean to harm me are dead_ Deidara thought.

It must have been early April by now, with the warmer air and the murky heat there was no mistaking the coming of spring. Not even a year ago, he would look up at the moon every night and think of all the adventures to be had. Now that he had his fill of adventure, he gazed up at the moon and wondered why he ever thought that was a good idea. No amount of moping would do him any good, however. He needed to make sure he, his children, and his people were safe until he and his beasts were grown and primed to take their revenge.

He could feel Red's hot scaly body as the image of the Kage's manor razed to the ground popped into his mind. The pleasing mental image did small good though, he knew that if he wanted his dreams to manifest into reality, he needed to take the head to a slaver who would pay for it. He knew nothing of the land beyond his mountain valley and the woods that surrounded it, but a queer thought occurred as he gazed into a looking glass that was worn with tarnish.

With the idea fresh on his mind, he immediately sought to wake Meisa. He needed her to help him write a letter, or perhaps three.

 **-and-and-and-and-and-**

Kurotsuchi hated this part of being the heir to the Earth Country in particular.

Despite her hesitation to call herself the heir to the entire country, she was told from a tender age that the truth was the Five Great Villages ruled the lands that surrounded them far more than the Daimyo or lesser lords did. Even still, from the look of it she would be the only girl when the next line of Kage was fully raised by their respective families. It made her every bit as nervous as it did excited for the challenge that it would surely lie ahead.

They said time and again that any one in the village who worked hard enough could become the next Tsuchikage, and for a while Kurotsuchi even believed this lie. When Akatsuchi asked to be passed over, the little coal princess questioned if she would be looked over for the seat because she was born a girl. She never forgot the words her grandfather told her.

"My gran'daughter, you'll never be looked over for bein' born a girl. Bein' born in this family is enough ta guarantee yer seat without question." Onoki had let out a belly laugh, and mussed her hair before urging her to get back to her favorite part of her training.

But the part she could not bring herself to love no matter how many ways she tried to rationalize it was the politics of it all. Who to treat with, who to reprimand, who is going to betray who, and worst of all who was to be assassinated. That may or may not have been because of Deidara being one of the targets, but the thing that bothered her the most with that particular case was how _dishonest_ everyone became when it came down to finding a way to put a high bounty on his head.

She had never seen a room full of grown men vehemently express such delusional statements. Yes, she definitely remembered Deidara, a prodigy of the Explosion Corps, taken under her grandfather's wing as a disciple. Everyone loved him too, no doubt. Those menacing glares never happened, right? Yes, he destroyed the sacred scroll, not that his blood ruined it from the little stab wound they had conveniently forgotten to mention.

Interestingly enough, he had completed quite an impressive amount of S rank missions for a servant. Kurotsuchi began to grow ill once the adults in the room all agreed that this would be a convincing story to warrant enough Ryo to attract a decent team of mercenaries. After they all nodded in agreement, it was on to the next topic: harvests. A boy she'd come to care for meant less than a ripe squash to them. When she became Kage, she hoped that she'd be listened to enough to make sure such lies were never told again.

The coroner had gained favor with Onoki, quite more than anyone had anticipated. He could be seen whispering happenings in his ear or meandering about the halls while pretending he didn't hear what had been said by a passerby. Kuro kept as quiet as possible around the man, but only because she had seen the way he was able to get information about others. He was even responsible for the doctoring of a photo of Deidara to make him look the part of a Stone Village ninja, a task that required much gazing on his behalf.

Thankfully he didn't seem to have much of an interest in the little princess at all, which suited her just fine. She was free to explore, train and play with her brother and anyone that was highborn enough. She hated the highborn kids more than the stuffy adults though, they'd never risk their clothes being muddied like she would. Even after she told them she'd make sure their parents wouldn't whip them, they mostly just walked away without another word.

If it weren't for her brother, she'd like not have a single friend to play with at all, or to do anything really. She was a fool to get so attached to Deidara when he came to their home, with his deer-in-headlights stare that lingered for the first month, and the enthusiasm he had when she showed him almost anything that she could find. _Everything_ was the coolest thing he'd ever seen, and _he_ wasn't afraid to ruin his clothes when she dragged him outside to play. Unfortunately, when they saw him covered in mud from head to toe he was given the beating for both of them. After that Kurotsuchi insisted that he always look his best if any adults were snooping around.

She quietly listened as the adults moved through the topics for the moon's assembly. Winter was upon them, and the harvests were to be stored and held for those that could afford them. Kuro tried to drown out the whispers of murder and famine, but before her hands could reach her ears the coroner tapped her shoulder.

His thick spectacles fit his face poorly, with his lean frame and stringy hair that brought string beans to her mind. He gave a brief smile, then his face fell once more. Kuro knew better than to even mutter a word to this man.

"It wouldn't do for a princess to act so ill-bred in front of her future council," he said, as softly as a puff of air.

Kurotsuchi gritted her teeth, and forced herself to remain civil. "Don't you have something better to do?" It was not as kind as some would hope, but it was better than what she was thinking.

The string bean stood up, and all the men in the room turned to him. He bowed in a curt manner, then cleared his throat.

"My Lords, thank you for your time today. I feel it's best to start off with my team before evening. This will take some time, as you know."

"Where are you going?" Kuro blurted out. The room fell silent as everyone stared at her, and she felt herself sinking into her seat. The momentary tension was broken by the coroner clearing his throat once more.

"Why, off to secure the beast, of course. Your grandfather promised a hefty reward to whoever manages to lay his corpse before his feet," he said, his smile almost covering his entire face.

"Ya have everything ya need, sonny?" Onoki asked.

The string bean held a photo in his left hand, and glanced at it under his glasses. "Oh, yes," he sighed, "absolutely everything I need."

After the council dissipated, Kuro approached her grandfather to ask him what was really happening. He ignored any attempt to talk to him, however, and eventually she gave up and returned to her chambers.

It had been a month already, and Deidara hadn't been tracked down. She laid down on her down feather bed and thought to herself, as she often did when the weather was too dim to play outside. Her mind's eye flooded with visuals of the clever ways that Deidara was evading two countries' black ops at once, and grinned from ear to ear. This would make for a fantastic story to tell the next kids who came to play, and it would surely send both them and their brown-nosing parents reeling.

 **-and-and-and-and-and-**

"Ten...twenty...thirty..."

The clink of each coin as it hit the stone pavement of the dead city filled the hearts of the small tribe with joy beyond compare. Food and water may have been in limited supply, but their brave Mater had collected a few smaller rewards for some odd jobs across the desert. Maybe a bandit or two fell victim to their little trap, but that wasn't as important.

"The southern people pay well for rubble," Kanako muttered.

It was hard to convince anyone that what he was doing was art, and he was earning Ryo by taking commissions from those who needed a masterpiece. The feeling of ecstasy and exhilaration that each building gave him as it crumbled before him was indescribable; he knew no one here would understand it.

"Sister, please be considerate. We've been blessed by the Mother herself when she sent us our new lord. Look, look back to the food and mead and summer drinks, and the meats and cheeses. We are in good hands now," Meisa chided her as Kanako continued to count the Ryo.

The food and wine weren't the only things that they had been given; fine silks, cloths and sashes now adorned the women and children of the dead city. Eight people were easy to keep fed and clothed, especially when the Ryo was constantly flowing in thanks to their little lord. Which was exactly what he had hoped for, as that meant his plan was starting to work.

"Five-hundred," Meisa said as the last coin fell with a resounding _clink_ on the pale stone pavement. Yutori wiped her brow as she sighed in relief, while Isamu gathered the Ryo and placed them in a chest that housed many hundreds of their funds already.

"How many were there today, M'lord?" Nyoko asked, her once-tremulous voice now sound and strong with comfort and confidence in Deidara.

"How many" there were had become a common inquiry from his little group, and it never seemed to cease despite his explanation that he went into constantly, most of the time in full detail. It started with a small group of bandits a few nights after they arrived, Baelerion got between Deidara and a dagger, his fire melting both steel and skin. The Ryo gained was aptly used to buy more clay, and the raper who met an unfortunate fate with Zephyr and a little clay dove paid for a new pack.

There was a little mercantile hub a few miles to the West from the dead city, one far more meager than the bustling town that was _Sundance_ , though Yutori swore up and down that even larger ones existed yet. Deidara pictured towering skyscrapers and enormous marketplaces that covered leagues upon leagues of the world, built finer and more opulent than even his mind's eye could imagine. But for now the little hub would suit him just as well, for he wasn't quite ready for the inevitable slaver to come upon their gates.

Only Meisa was meant to know of his primary source of income, however Kanako had intruded upon the duo in the middle of their plotting. Though she objected to the idea at first, she admitted that gaining notoriety would keep them more safe than remaining timid and in hiding. Five-hundred Ryo didn't come from a bandit, raper or brigand. It came from his art commissions; ones which clients paid handsomely to have Deidara detonate buildings of the individual's enemies, simple detonation to aid construction processes, or simply people themselves.

It didn't bother him as much if he never saw the person he killed - if he needed to kill one. Those were surprisingly rare, much to the relief of the sisters. If they wore a headband, it meant that they killed, or will kill. There was no getting around that, no matter how many times Meisa pleaded him to deny the job.

"But those are the ones that pay the best, sweet Meisa," Deidara said with an unsettling smile that betrayed no concern he may have harbored.

But as Meisa led her chosen lord to the fountain to bathe him, he called back to Nyoko with all of the effort of crushing a fly upon a wall.

"Three, sweet one. And many more to come."

He parted from the group before he could see Nyoko blush, or Isamu gather her son to plan out their dinner. Kanako followed the duo, ever-wary of Meisa and Deidara spending time alone together. He heard her almost every night, warning her sister of the influence he had on her. How was he so bad for them when he had saved them all from a life of servitude? Deidara considered selling _her_ to the first slaver that came around, if only to rid himself of this nonsense.

The hot May sun warmed the water of the fountain he and his people used to bathe in. Meisa stripped Deidara of his turquoise garb while Kanako laid out the bone-toothed combs, soaps and oils used in all of their baths. He slouched against the edge as his maids worked at him, but he was no longer allowed to demand them to wash anything below his waist.

While Deidara scrubbed away at his left leg and Meisa combed out his hair with oils and fragrances, Vulcan came loping in from the left side of the town square. Eager as ever to see his parent, he splashed into the fountain and threw himself on top of Deidara. His clumsy little wretch of a child that loved him so dearly did not realize his own strength, and before he could force Vulcan to leave him be, Meisa cried out in shock.

"M'lord! Your arm, it's bleeding!" Meisa said as she hurriedly ripped a large chunk of her new shift to wrap his arm before it stained the pale bricks.

"Damn it!" Deidara said through gritted teeth. His child frustrated him to no end, and every day they all seemed larger than the last. There would come a day when Vulcan's loving embraces would crush his skeleton, and Red's little firey bursts would raze cities to the ground. At the rate they grew, he wouldn't have to wait much longer to take revenge on those who wronged him.

Vulcan purred and mewled next to Deidara as his misshapen paws prodded at his thigh. Deidara groaned, his patience was stretched quite thin already, and he didn't have much time to worry over this folly. No matter what he tried, how hard he forced himself to do it, he could not bring himself to love Vulcan as he loved the others.

It wasn't long until Baelerion sensed his parent's distress. His little defender swooped down to the top of the fountain, hissing and crying out to his brother. Vulcan seemed to understand, and backed away from Deidara with his head lowered, little whimpers emitted from his malformed maw every time his brother glared down at him with his glistening white wingspan on full display

"Good. Good Baely. He serves you far better than the others," Meisa said, her voice low enough that only Deidara could hear.

"What do you suggest I do about that, hm?" Deidara asked, looking up at her with a weary face. "I've tried everything to get him to be better, and nothing ever works. Nothing. I don't want to be stuck with him, Meisa. I only want my little Eros, my sweet Baely, not these other rejects."

Meisa glanced up at Kanako, who seemed preoccupied with something in the distance while she guarded her lord from above, perched on a tall building where Zephyr happened to currently roost.

In an even lower voice, Meisa said, "I understand where M'lord is coming from, it is a source of pain and humiliation to be saddled with such a burden, no? M'lord and I are both, ah, how did you say it once, 'on the same page', yes?"

Deidara slowly nodded, somewhat confused by his favorite maid's sudden secrecy.

"After your bath, please follow me out to the desert. Let us unload our burdens there. I swear I will not tell Kanako, I am your loyal servant, until my last breath," Meisa said in a voice even lower, and shakier and breathy than he had ever heard her. But her words gripped at his mind and teased out a final slow, silent nod.

The sun was setting by the time Meisa and Deidara were able to step away from the group as they ate their supper. Meisa held her babe in a bundle, while Deidara had Vulcan scantily wrapped in a similar fashion. His beast wouldn't stop squiggling about in his arms, so he had to walk with bowed legs to keep Vulcan from breaking free of his restraint. It certainly did not help this already-ridiculous struggle that this beast weighed at least a hundred pounds and slobbered at a near-constant rate.

It took a good hour of walking, but Meisa finally gestured to the canyon a few yards away from them. Her eyes did not leave his, as if to test him, to make sure he wasn't going to betray her. _She should have known by now that I trust her and her alone, and we'll keep our secrets together_ Deidara thought as he lugged Vulcan toward the canyon. At this point, Vulcan had gone entirely silent; he sensed something was amiss.

"Go on," Meisa said, her voice as gentle as it had been when they first met in the catacombs. She nodded over to the edge of the canyon, and waited with her babe at arm's length.

Deidara heaved his beast once more as he inched himself over to the mouth of the canyon. Below he saw a rush of sand that flowed almost as water. None could survive falling into that, from the look of it. Not even Baelerion would be able to protect him if he fell in.

Meisa turned to Deidara. The two were dressed in identical white garb, complete with pearl and obsidian belts. She was a sister for him more than she was for Kanako; the way she guided him, her warm smile, her caring nature. She may be able to replace his brother. _She may be able to replace Nendou._

He couldn't let this slip away from him again, so he let Vulcan slip instead.

Meisa's arms were empty when he turned to her once more. She seemed so naked without her babe at her breast, but so much younger. Her posture, her bright eyes and skin, everything about her seemed so much more _alive_ than just a moment before. Now he could see her being but a year older than he was like she claimed.

"M'lord, we did it. We are free," Meisa said with a smile, her face no longer weary. Deidara couldn't help but give a half-smile back.

"Yes, sweet Meisa, we are free," Deidara said, trying to pay attention to her. His thoughts were elsewhere, though. His mind kept circling back to his other children, and if they would begin to upset him as Vulcan did. Would he simply toss them all from a cliff the moment they bothered him at a poor time? What frightened him was that he could not answer it for himself; he did not know if he could trust himself to be the parent his children needed.

The gentle clink of light steel sounded off in the distance. Not too far off, Deidara could make out Kanako walking towards the duo, her naginata strapped to her back in case of an attack. She took notice of her sister, then her slow walk became a full-on sprint. She stopped just before them, a bit out of breath.

"M'lord...I, ah, I saw a group of men. Red attire, shinobi. Not one I have seen. They are there by now, they..." Kanako said as she struggled to give her report as she caught her breath.

"What? What's happened, hm?" Deidara asked, worry weaved throughout his words.

"Please, we must run. They may find us too, and I fear the others are lost," Kanako said, her breathing stable once more.

" _Not_ without my children. We'll flee once my children are secure, and not a second sooner," Deidara said, trying to command with a strong, hard voice.

"M'lord, listen to me for just a moment, if you will," Meisa said, interrupting what was forming into another heated argument.

"Make it quick," Deidara growled, his firey gaze focused on the town off in the distance.

"Remember our plans. If it is the Sand Village, you know to hide in the darkness. If it is the red-haired man, you know to fight with the skies. If it is the Stone Shinobi, you know to bring them the light."

Deidara nodded. He knew, he had prepared for this moment for a month. As a little clay bird fell from his hands and exploded in size before them, Deidara felt the winds blow at his back after hiding from him for some time. It seemed he had something's blessing now, whatever that was.

The three climbed the eagle, and it spread its proud clay wings before taking to the skies. With the aided haste of the galeforce wind behind them, an hour's walk became five minutes, if not less. The dead city was silent below them, and none of the other five of his people could be found - nor his children. He would have to descend to find anything in the city, much to his dismay.

Deidara let his clay creation land atop a building, and instructed Meisa and Kanako to lay low beneath it in case of a ranged attack. He climbed down a ladder on the side, and dashed about the main square through rummaged chests and baskets of food. He cursed under his breath at the sight of his precious hideout pillaged, but his children were of greater import.

Panicked, Deidara began to breathe sporadically. The mouth on his chest wiggled about as it hadn't for a month, not since he was kidnapped by Sasori. He could feel tears begin to well up in his eyes, and his lips curl in preparation to yell out for his beasts to come to him. His heart nearly stopped when he heard the clicking and chirping of his little defender - his little Baelerion.

He saw him; he saw them all. Packed safely in cages that were held by men in red shinobi garb, and crests of the Stone Village donned proudly on their foreheads. Ten in total, and one lean man dressed in traditional Wind Country robes with thick spectacles and stringy hair. He looked at Deidara, who was plainly in their sight. His children in the enemy's hands, his people vanished, likely killed. Meisa and Kanako could be saved, if he was quick. Or not, he did not truly know anymore.

The bespectacled man smiled warmly, and held his arms out. "Deidara!" he called out, though not even a few yards away Deidara could barely register that as a yell.

"What have you done with the others, hm?" Deidara asked, not in the mood to exchange pleasantries with monsters.

"They're dealt with, my dear. Come and gone, like many before them. We've been looking everywhere for you, sweet boy. Look at you, all dirty and tired. We can arrange for you to have a nice nap with your little friends, but first our beloved Tsuchikage would like a word with you."

"Release my children."

The gangly man let out a chuckle, and said, "Funny, we've been calling you a beast for so long, I can almost picture you giving birth to these beasts. Forgive me."

Yet the man chuckled on a bit longer, yet Deidara did not break his murderous gaze off of the shinobi that held his children.

"Release my children, or die."

The spectacled man cleared his throat. "I apologize if I haven't made myself clear, Deidara. You are under arrest for the murder of four Jonin, fine servants of our Tsuchikage. You are also under arrest for conspiracy to commit murder of the Tsuchikage and his family. If you do not come quietly, we'll have no choice but to harm these, err, _children_ of your's."

Deidara looked around him, and saw Meisa and Kanako being dragged beside him by more Stone Shinobi, knives to their throats. He sighed, then stepped forward as he dropped his clay pack to the ground. He gave a glance to Meisa and Kanako, and they did the same. They all knew what to do: bring them the light.

"Old man Onoki wants to speak to me, is that right, hm? I don't want to keep someone who can keel over any minute waiting too much longer," Deidara said, his shoulders laxed to display resignation.

The men cuffed him well, he gave them that much. He was bound by iron mitts that sealed his hands, and chains that bound his arms; one behind his back and one across his belly. There would be no chance of escape with a group this large and deft, and anyone capable of finding him here could surely find him again. So he walked, bound in chains and irons with his children in cages as they screeched for their parent, and his maids in irons behind him.

Yet he savored the journey back home for his trial and inevitable execution. So very many trees lined the path "home", and so very many monsters lurked about in the most unusual places. These men had best be careful, as Deidara was a monster by their own account, and lately men had picked up a habit of spontaneously combusting. Oh, what a _terrifying_ little thought.

 **-and-and-and-and-and-**


End file.
